Broken Mold
by Mafia Puppet
Summary: Kagome's putting on weight fast. Refusing to deal with the problems of the very literal past, she seeks refuge in food. But is she the only one affected?
1. Chapter 1

**Broken Mold**

_109_

Kagome let out a petite groan as she heaved her way over the rim of the well and hit the soft dirt within the well house. It had been far too long since she had been back. As she anxiously made her way outside, the trees surrounding the Higurashi shrine a dull red and yellow with the colors of autumn, she couldn't help but push herself along a little faster, faster and faster until she was running.

The front door burst open and her disappointment mounted. "Mom?" she called out, but did not expect a response. The house was surprisingly absent of all the familiar presences she had expected. The air was clean, devoid of the thick, distracting odor from the smoke of her grandfather's daily rituals. Her mother, usually multitasking _something_ could neither be heard nor, later, seen within the kitchen, where Kagome had come to expect to find her after long periods in the Sengoku Era, nervously scrubbing dishes whilst awaiting her daughter's return.

"Souta?"

They were out. After two entire months away from her family, they didn't have the time to be there when she returned. But, she quickly checked herself: it was unfair of her to look at it that way. They didn't know she was finally coming back today. Besides, there were at least other things she had been looking forward to.

A few weeks away from modern life can, if a person looks at it in the right light, feel a lot like an extended camping trip. Every necessity can even be accounted for if one carries it along in a large yellow backpack. A sleeping bag, flashlight, mosquito repellant, fresh water, and of course a few chocolate bars can all be brought along to help keep the prepared camper sane. Sane from, say, a chauvinistic pig of a hanyou masquerading as a sensitive, heroic, good-looking feudal age hero.

Or was it the other way around?

But after a few weeks go by, it's hard to maintain that illusion of a quaint, insignificant camping trip. The first misconception that's quickly rectified is that of bottled water: water straight from mountain springs. Because in reality, mountain springs do not taste like bottled water. Bottled water is more accurately ground water, like that which is found within wells around mountain springs. The springs themselves follow the same basic principles of any other natural source of water: bad if it's stagnant, better if it's running, but crap either way.

Soon after that, the less important things start running out. Suddenly, there are no more seasonings. And sadly, even Miroku can't make burnt rabbit meat taste like anything more than what it is: burnt rabbit meat. At least with the taste of home, Kagome could close her eyes and be briefly swept away from the middle of a forest in the middle of nowhere and placed back in the middle of modern day Japan at that precise moment just after she'd asked Souta to pass the salt.

But there was one thing that Kagome thought she could count on always packing enough of. There was one thing that she thought she could always count on through Inuyasha and Shippo's bickering, the bug bites, the stale water, the filthy food, the torn clothes, the cold nights. There are always certain things that can provide just enough of a pick-me-up to get a weary traveler through the day. For Kagome, that thing was chocolate. And if that sniveling little runt of a kitsune hadn't stuffed it all down his fat little gullet when she wasn't looking, Kagome might have been able to sanely get through those last 6 weeks.

It was that thought that Kagome Higurashi had running circles in her mind when she strolled into the kitchen pantry. Now admittedly, there are certain things a girl subconsciously wants to avoid when attempting to maintain her trim figure. And admittedly, many such avoidances concern chocolate. Kagome knew this, but she was a bright a girl. A fight with Inuyasha would never lead to rummaging through her massive backpack for as much candy as she could find to stuff her face with. No, it had always just meant she just take a few bites of something sweet and then try to calm down. It had never meant sitting alone gorging herself with whatever might serve as a temporary substitute for a relationship.

Never, so long as she could remember, has it meant, "Kami, I've missed you," and jamming as much of it as she could unwrap into her chocolate-smeared mouth. Doing something of that nature wouldn't be proper of a future Shinto priestess or Dr. Higurashi, Ph.D. Binging on chocolate is something that's expected of unhappy fat girls who have no way of expressing their pent-up emotions and dealing with the monumental social repercussions of living in fast-paced modern society.

Lately however, Kagome had been feeling a lot like an unhappy fat girl.

Everywhere she looked she saw more, too. When she was away, her mother always liked to splurge on things that reminded her of her daughter. Apparently, Miss Higurashi knew of her daughter's secret love for the treat. Shelves were lined with entire industrial-size packages of empty calorie laden snacks. Kagome greeted it all eagerly, savoring each bite as if it were her last and taking bite after bite as if there were no more bites after. She didn't care that sometimes her input exceeded her output; that sometimes she took in another delight before she swallowed the last. Each newly found flavor combination was welcomed as it assaulted her palette with something else even more magnificent.

This was not the way Inuyasha's lover should be acting, she told herself. Kagome Higurashi was a respectable, strong-minded, beautiful girl who would never just suddenly give and let herself go, Kagome thought through another bite of a DEAN Bar.

However, to her horror, the image of that confident, beautiful girl that had always remained omnipresent in her mind was changing. She saw in her mind's eye that which she had always aspired to be. She was the good student. She was the powerful athlete. She was the loyal friend. She was the attractive girlfriend. Or would be, anyway.

With every single ounce of sensuous chocolate she slid into her mouth, that girl changed, conforming to every vicious stereotype Kagome thought of and suddenly allowed. She became content; placated, lazy. Her values of her friends suddenly took a backseat to the value of her food. Her goals and aspirations fell subject to

Then she also saw no more scales. No more diets. No more counted calories and long-term goals. She couldn't explain it, nor did she want to, but the sudden of promise of just forgetting all the societal pressures made Kagome giddy. She forgot all her self-conscious glances at magazines. She forgot her gnawing envy of the girl one dress-size smaller than her. She thought dizzily of no more salad, no more celery, no more rabbit food. It felt good.

But then, above all, the Miko saw her hips. She saw sleek, slender, shapely hips and thighs. She saw her flat stomach, her thin waist, perk breasts, defined arms, and tight ass. She saw all the fruits of countless hours of hiking, of track meets, of gym class. She saw the result of watching her weight, of counting her calories, of denying herself excess. And she saw it all being thrown away. It, too, felt good? Toned legs gave way to thick, jiggly thighs. Slender hips broadened, straining against the seams of some pretend pair of jeans, roly-poly tummy bulging over them. Looking down at the candy bar in her hand, she could imagine, even feel, the fat bulge of an unkempt double chin. Yet it was almost as if none of that mattered. She'd just shrug it off and unwrap another. She felt free, in some unexplainable way. She thought of binging, of getting fat, and told herself it would just be tonight. She'd diet tomorrow; she'd break even. Today, she'd let go, forgetting more and more burdens as they hid themselves away within her taut stomach. It felt good to let go. It felt unbelievably, obscenely and offensively good.

It was there, on the ceramic tile flooring of the pantry, stomach clutched and painfully distended against her blouse, that Ms. Higurashi found her. Still nibbling on a chocolate bar, her mother swore the 16-year old girl had more of the melted chocolate smeared across her lips and cheeks than in her mouth.

The light of the pantry had never been flicked on.

Kagome Higurashi has experienced the bitter realities of life without food, without comforts, and without Inuyasha. Finally, something had snapped. And she was determined not to let him or it get to her again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Broken Mold**

_123_

"Kagome, breakfast!"

"I know, mom!"

Pushing herself out of bed, Kagome quickly snatched a pair of dark blue jeans from her dresser and slid on a blouse. She'd gone a week without Inuyasha, she thought suddenly, as she brushed her hair. A whole week without dodging demons, sifting through corpses, walking for hours…

It was irrelevant. There was no point bitching about things that had to be done, things that were her fault and her responsibility. At least she had caught up on her schoolwork and met Eri's new boyfriend. It was a little disappointing. He had been as ditzy as his date.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Higurashi was minding the stove. She was, as far as anyone else was concerned, a wonderful mother. She cleaned the house, cooked the meals, ironed the clothes, made the beds, and anything else that was expected of her position. She enjoyed every minute of it. Mrs. Higurashi was a caring, nurturing mother of two. She would raise two caring, nurturing well-adjusted kids. She would raise them through trust and example.

Which, coincidently, was why she smiled placidly and put the last of the fish down on the dining table when she saw Kagome coming down the stairs. Mrs. Higurashi was an excellent mother. Mrs. Higurashi never missed a beat.

She didn't say anything when she saw her daughter plop down in her chair. She pretended not to notice when her daughter asked for a third serving. In fact, she remained delightfully ignorant of Kagome's numbing urge to pop open the front of her jeans and relieve the blistering pressure of the waistband.

No, all Mrs. Higurashi did was enable her daughter's hunger. She loved helping. She hated the consequences. Mrs. Higurashi wouldn't acknowledge the consequences. "Do you want some more, honey?" "This tastes simply wonderful. I can understand why you're so famished!" "Fourths? Don't look embarrassed; let me help you…"

She didn't mention how the flare of Kagome's hips sometimes made the denim audibly groan. Nor had she mentioned the visible plumber's crack Kagome exhibited when first she sat down. All Mrs. Higurashi did was smile placidly in the background, noting with a tinge of sadness how her daughter's choice of jeans caused love handles to surge forward and her cute little tummy to bulge out against the tight blouse. Mrs. Higurashi was unsure if the wardrobe choice included a half-inch of bare midriff. She never asked.

A caring mother would never tell her child she was gaining weight. Mrs. Higurashi was a caring mother. Mrs. Higurashi had never called her daughter fat. She never intended to.

Souta had. She hadn't.

Kagome, however, knew her mother's eyes hadn't left her fork since she sat down at the table. Grandpa's small talk was getting annoying. He didn't care. He didn't even notice.

"I've got to go back to the Sengoku era," Kagome announced. "It's been a week and I don't think they've gotten anything done without me." She put down her silverware. Now her mother was listening. "I'm going to go back to Inuyasha."

Her grandfather was on the phone to the office before she walked out the door. Outside, she unbuttoned her jeans with a sigh of relief. The waistband still hurt her sides.

Kagome had looked into her bedroom mirror and she had seen herself. She had fat pants and an oversized shirt or two. Large shirts made her look cute. She looked lost in them. But when Kagome looked in the mirror she didn't see jiggly thighs and a size 8 butt in size 4 clothes. She saw attention. She saw Kikyou. She saw differences.

Inuyasha wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off her, she thought gaily as she plummeted down the well. He'd see her. He'd want to help her, even if her family didn't.

"It's been a week, Inuyasha," Miroku stressed, "A week! You've got to go get her! I know you want to go get her!" Miroku was begging. Inuyasha was pouting. Inuyasha wished Miroku knew that immaturity ran in his family.

"She'll come back when she wants to come back, monk." He said it with an air of finality that demanded an end to the conversation.

"What if she's hurt?"

Miroku understood the nuances of the conversational tone like he understood Japan's laws against lechery. The only difference was he chose to indulge in the former, and vehemently avoid the latter.

"Kagome's smart enough to keep out of trouble," he shot back uncertainly.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Inuyasha," Miroku said dejectedly. His head was hung with sorrow. "I suppose we can go on without her. She contended well with those metal beasts of the future."

"What do you mean 'contended well'! Kagome isn't dead yet!"

Miroku coughed. "Oh, yes. Of course she isn't." He turned around and headed back to the village, stating just loud enough for Inuyasha to hear, "The stages of mourning are always hardest on the loved ones."

The monk didn't need to turn around to tell Inuyasha was sprinting to the well. He smiled.

Inuyasha, on the other hand, wasn't smiling. He was sprinting. He had to make it to the clearing and into the well. He had to-

Inuyasha ran headfirst into a tree.

"Are you okay?" a familiar voice shrieked. The sounds of footsteps were getting closer. Inuyasha, lying on his back, looked towards the voice with blurry vision. It was Kagome. The monk was wrong.

"I just had the weirdest vision." Inuyasha rubbed his head. "You were there. So were a lot of Shippo's chocolates." His head still hurt. Kagome pulled him to his feet. Why did he keep hearing stretching fabric?

Kagome had laughed lightly. He didn't think too hard on it. "Come on, let's get back to the village. We need to get going." Inuyasha nodded vaguely and trailed along behind her. He conveniently forgot to let go of her hand.

Kagome's footsteps were louder than usual. Were they running? His vision was clearing up as they maneuvered through the trees surrounding Kaede's village. The first thing that came into focus was the bare small of Kagome's back and, his eyes bulged, the full figured curve of something he'd only vaguely remembered noticing before. He was going to say something, but demons didn't sound very insulting when they stuttered.

The rest of the walk back to Kaede's village went quietly. If there was one thing Inuyasha understood, it was self-preservation. No, he had decided, commenting on her weight was stepping over the line. He couldn't do that to Kagome. Granted, on the other side of the line lay a broken back and a small Inuyasha-shaped crater, which probably provided most of the incentive. But no, he could respect her that much. Respect never broke any bones.

As they reached the top of a hill, Kagome was finally able to look over a familiar sight: the village. Off to the east was where she first met Inuyasha. Thinking of this, she suddenly felt a pang of rejection, as well as worry: all Inuyasha had done was sneak patronizing glances at her fat ass. When she had thought of his attention, the thought that he'd find her disgusting with only a little extra weight hadn't occurred to her. Was he so shallow that fifteen pounds meant the end of any budding relationship?

Her heart fluttered. Did she manage to ruin her chances with him in the span of a week of binge eating? It couldn't be. He loved her. He was supposed to say some scathing comment and just laugh it off. He wasn't supposed to care. But here they were, alone, and all she could do now was loathe her obese existence.

"Not everyone has a perfect figure!" she shouted, then slapped her hands over her mouth. That wasn't supposed to come out.

Inuyasha turned to look at her, smiling. It was that half-cocked superior grin of his. He was mocking her! She felt lightheaded. How could she have done this to herself? She thought of the clothes she had stuffed into her backpack. They were her "fat" clothes. She didn't want sweatpants. She wanted Inuyasha.

His tone matched his smile. He said, "I didn't say everyone did," then turned and started down the hill. _I will not call her fat_, he thought. _I will not call her fat. I will not call her fat…_

Kagome followed indignantly, now very conscious of her wardrobe choice. She found herself gravitating closer and closer to Inuyasha as they approached the village. When the pair strode by the inhabitants, it took all of her willpower not to go running into the nearest hut. But the demon didn't care; he was used to ignoring stares and whispers.

She tugged up the seat of her jeans and hurried the pace to Kaede's. By the time they reached it, she was blushing profusely. Inuyasha pretended not to notice.

When they entered, Kagome let herself drop back onto the hardwood floor of the elder's hut. Her newly convex tummy bulged forward, and for the first time Inuyasha noticed the opening in the button flies and the small patch of pink fabric that sent him into an outrageous coughing fit. Kagome remained blissfully unaware.

"Sango and Miroku are probably in the kitchen," she said after the room's tension had lapsed. She sat with her legs spread out in front of her, hands steady behind her as supports. She always felt comfortable here.

"Probably." Still standing, Inuyasha thrust his arms into his haori and fixed his eyes on a particularly large crack in the wall. A fire beetle was trying to push its way through. It wouldn't fit. _I will not call her fat. I will not look at her panties. I will not call her fat. I will not…_

"I've been gone a week," she announced arbitrarily. "I would have expected that by now you'd be dying to get back on Naraku's trail."

_You could definitely use the exercise_. His gaze idly dropped back down to her stomach. _What has she been eating? _His eyes dropped lower still, butt then quickly shot back to the beetle. "Not everything revolves around you, you know." There was a pause, as if he was going to say something more, but he let it go.

"I know," she said dumbly.

"No, you don't!"

"What?"

"Every time you come back here, there's always some new goddamn drama I have to put up with! Last time, you hadn't finished your tests. The time before that, you forgot Shippo's crayons. What is it this time, Kagome?" He was venting. "Care to tell me?"

Sango and Miroku could be heard from the other room. Instead of answering, Kagome waited until they walked in. It was hard to tell when Miroku's nose started bleeding. They didn't work like the subject-changer she had expected them to.

"Kagome!" Sango gasped, staring.

She sighed.

"Kagome!" Miroku squealed, staring.

Inuyasha growled, but he still looked at the miko expectant of an answer.

She caved in. "Okay, fine-" Kagome looked at Sango, "-I may have put on a few… pounds." She felt a little better getting it out.

Sango shook her head, "No, er," and pointed to Kagome's waistline.

When the girl looked down, her blushing returned with full vigor and she was struck speechless for a few seconds. The room was silent, except for the sound of Shippo outside with a ball. Finally, dumbly, Kagome asked meekly, "Has it been that way the whole time?"

Inuyasha nodded.

She had begun to buckle it, but sitting down the two flaps wouldn't reach. She stood up. The room was silent. She still felt uncomfortable full from breakfast. The flaps wouldn't reach. She sucked in her tummy, wishing desperately she had left before having that fourth helping. The waistband just wasn't large enough. She couldn't clasp it. Her face was red with exertion when, only a scant thirty seconds later, Inuyasha cut in. "God, you've gotten fat," he snarled and grabbed the ends of her waistband. He had vaguely heard, "These are designer jeans!" but ignored the cry, firmly closing the two flaps and doing both buttons. She felt huge. Her thighs felt so thick.

The sound of Shippo bouncing the ball was something everyone took comfort in. It sure beat the awkward air of the elder's hut.

Eventually, Miroku had said, "So, they're pink?" and everything went back to the pretense of normal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Broken Mold**

_127_

The great oak trees north of the Bone Eater well had no leaves. A recent fire had extinguished any signs of life in the now desolate forest. Large clearings of desecrated vegetation were scattered about for miles, sparse patches of grass the only vibrant color. There were no birds, no animals. The charred trees still standing cast their bony shadows over empty nests.

The sounds of battle had ceased only seconds earlier.

Inuyasha stood unwavering, Tetsusaiga grasped firmly in hand, before one of the biggest demons he had ever seen. Its face, like its body, had been disfigured beyond all recognition of its former self by the corruption of the large Shikon Shard lodged somewhere inside it. When it moved, muscles spasmed irregularly under broken tufts of fur. Its dog-like protruding nostrils opened and shut around huge gusts of rancid exhalation. The beast's focus shifted from target to target, never ceasing. It was chaos and its victim was irrelevant.

"What the hell is it, Miroku?" Inuyasha had roared. His legs ached from the extortion of dodging the monster's powerful thrusts of its massive arms. He hadn't noticed until now. The beast, however, wasn't interested in the cold thrill of the fight. It just sought the bloody aftermath of its victory.

"I think it used to be a wolf demon," Miroku shouted back. He was with Sango and Kagome. He couldn't feel his arm. "Just keep its attention on you!" Then he shouted, after looking at his arm, "I don't think it would be wise for me to try confronting it again!"

In the pit of the hanyou's stomach, he knew he hated this part of the process. He feigned indifference, but in reality it was he who carried out the most vicious of the party's duties; he was the baleful executioner, disposing of the soulless husks of meat and muscle that had once been noble. A vision of the forest guardian flashed before his eyes, and of him temporarily sealing the well.

"Wind Scar!"

The massive chasm of natural energies split the space between him and the wolf demon. When the dust and ash cleared, it was gone. Inuyasha's shoulders slumped in quiet triumph.

Seconds later, there was a wet thud and the hanyou was lying face down on scorched earth.

From behind him, fifty feet of bulk and bone stood with its snout twisted in a hideous deformity of what once could have been a smile. Its hulking frame turned and moved towards the rest of the group, its uneasy gait belying its staggering agility.

The first sounds out of its mouth were lazy and unintelligible, like someone waking up after a long nap. Its words slowly took shape, until it spoke in a deep, guttural tone.

"…You don't know how long it's been since I've had a meal," it choked out. Every word still seemed lazy and the pauses longer than necessary. It was like they were too large and had to be forced out of its throat. It was staring dazedly at the monk. "Everything here has been dead for weeks! Those fucking farmers burned everything!"

Muscles on muscles shifted in knotted succession, moving closer and closer to Miroku.

"Get back," Miroku said firmly to those behind him. Kagome obliged. He held his bo staff threateningly in his right hand.

The wolf's eyes lacked eyelids. The small flaps of skin that had once protected them from the elements had sunken and receded into its skull as it had grown. Blood red pupils laced with purple veins stared now at Kagome, then Sango, then back to Miroku. "You don't know how happy I am to see fresh meat," it shrieked, slapping the monk clear out of its way with one powerful twinge of its arm. The thought to use his Kazaana had crossed his mind, but with his arm broken, it was deemed too dangerous.

Inuyasha's eyes fluttered open.

"It's been weeks," it shrieked, "since I've eaten! Those scrawny peasants were more bone than meat! They did nothing for my appetite!"

Sango held a hand to her neck where a rock shard had been lodged. It bled terribly.

The choked voice of the demon hurt the ears. In its excitement, its voice had risen to a high, unsteady treble. "_**You don't know how hungry I am**!"_

Inuyasha forced himself up. He turned to look at the monstrosity. Sango and Miroku did the same in a senseless stupor.

The Demon's voice had calmed down somewhat after he came across the miko. Its attention solely on her, it took comfort in what would be its first meal in two weeks. Whether it was talking to itself or its indisposed audience was uncertain. But nonetheless, calm and controlled, it spoke. "Just what I've been looking for," it cooed, a hand lashing out and hoisting Kagome into the air by her ankle. The school uniform skirt would have fallen downward, resulting in a very illicit scene, had both her hands not rushed to stop it. Only afterwards had Inuyasha realized she was screaming.

"There aren't many pudgy ones left in Japan," it mused sadly. "Naraku's wrath causes a lot of famine." It had pulled the schoolgirl closer to its wide, unblinking eyes. Specks of snot and saliva glistened around its trembling mouth. It spoke with an authoritative knowledge. "A lot of guys I know cut the fat off first-" Its claws shimmered in the afternoon sun, "- less carbs," it stated matter-of-factly. "But then the human just doesn't taste the same.

"They just don't have that SQUISH, you know?" Its monstrous talons shifted and tightened considerably around Kagome's thick thigh. She screamed louder. "Kills the flavor," it rumbled, spittle flinging off its rubbery jowls. "The flavor is very important."

Inuyasha's elongated nails scraped loudly, instantly, against the metallic hilt of Tetsusaiga. In a flash, it was restored to its true form. He was behind the behemoth, and this time he wouldn't miss.

Lean muscles tensed, bulged, and suddenly he was airborne. Before the clang of his claws on iron had even registered to the wolf-demon and humans, the ligaments of its arm were severed and the pressure against Kagome's leg was alleviated. She blinked twice when she found herself in Inuyasha's arms. It felt good in a lightheaded sort of way.

An hour later found Miroku's arm in a splint. He was pointing over to the massive carcass of their kill. He was speaking to Kagome. "How about getting the shard from it now? We've got enough bandages not to be in any immediate danger."

Sango watched intently from the distance as Kagome nodded, then strode over to the pile. Had she gained even more weight? The girl certainly ate enough lately to be three times her size. _I should be happy she's still secure enough with her body to wear that uniform_, the demon hunter told herself. Then, she saw Kagome bend over and her skirt fail to adequately cover her expanded rear.

"We should have gotten Kagome something else to wear at the village," Sango thought aloud. She didn't realize it until Inuyasha agreed with her. "Her uniform is even smaller on her than usual," she sighed, watching Kagome in quiet horror. If she inhaled too quickly, the poor skirt would snap! She could just imagine Miroku's reaction.

"It's better than some of the other clothes she brought along," Inuyasha replied. "I didn't know that getting fat brought the slut out in girls."

"Inuyasha!" Sango gasped.

"You were thinking the same thing."

Sango hurriedly ended the conversation. "We should still get a tailor in the next town to make Kagome something larger. Or maybe just let out a few of the seams on some of her other stuff."

Inuyasha nodded. "Yeah. I'll do that," he decided. "I don't want you botching it up."

The Shikon Shard had been shot deep into the monster's skull. After having Miroku crack it open, it had been Kagome's job to sift through pounds of demonic gray matter until she finally found it. "See if I ever do that again," she had grumbled to herself as they walked off.

A town was just outside the edge of the forest. Kagome kept wiping her hands on the seat of her skirt, trying to get off the juices that had matted themselves onto her hands and arms. There hadn't been a stream or lake to clean up in since they'd left the village. Her skin was crawling. She looked up, as the trees got scarcer, at the bright sun glaring down through unpolluted air. There were, of course, a few good things about the Sengoku Era.

"I can't wait to get to an inn and bathe," Kagome moaned. Sango looked at her in complete agreement. "I feel so dirty!" She looked back to where Inuyasha was trailing several feet behind the rest of them. "You going to be like this all day?" He scoffed and turned his head away. _Typical_.

After everyone had returned their focus to the road ahead of them, Inuyasha could go back to his own thoughts. He watched, with remote curiosity, Kagome as she walked. He no longer felt immoral when he snuck looks at her, even if it was just to enjoy the sight of her body. It felt good to be free of what he considered a vice. Now he stared, like a man who slows down to rubberneck by the side of an accident, at Kagome's bare legs. Her thighs shuddered with each step. Sango's, he noted, didn't. Hers were toned and lean like that of a warrior. Kagome's were…

_Fat._

He watched as the sides of her shirt slid upward, revealing small love handles above her tight waistband. Every few minutes, she tugged the shirt back down, only to have it slide back up seconds later. The front of her shirt had been tight against the distended curve of her tummy. He was pretty sure that meant the shirt was supposed to be looser.

Kagome walked on, chatting idly with the others, never to know about Inuyasha's scrutiny. He walked quietly behind them until they reached the town.

"I'm so hungry," Kagome blurted out, looking wide-eyed at Sango.

"We'll get some food after we find a bed and," Sango scraped a glob of demon viscera off Kagome's arm, "a warm bath."

The town, which was larger than most that she had been to, had only a few open inns. The one they wandered into was expensive for the services it provided, a sign that the town received an ample amount of commerce.

After they had rented a few rooms, Kagome had gone in a mad dash to the private bath. Inuyasha followed her in.

"What?" she asked, once she realized he wasn't going to leave the bathroom without acknowledgement.

He explained to her quickly, "Your clothes are as disgusting as you are, and I thought I'd take those to be washed with the rest of them while you bathed."

She looked at him intently, then the bar of soap she had brought along with longing. Finally, she told him, "Yeah, sure. I'll hand them to you once I'm undressed. But you better have them back by the time I'm done!"

He stepped outside and waited. After she gave him the clothes, he found it to be the first time he hadn't had the suppressed urge to peek back in through the crack of the door, or even imagine her undressing…

It felt good.

It felt really good.

He went back to her pack and grabbed the several changes of clothes and the gray garments she called "sweats". Those, he knew, still fit and would give the tailor the proper measurements.

Monk!" Inuyasha nudged Miroku with his elbow, his hands brimming with a woman's attire. "Did you see a tailor anywhere earlier?"

Miroku looked from the pile of fabric to Inuyasha, saying slowly, "I thought you were going to get them washed."

"I'm not. Have you seen one?"

"Yeah, there was a small shop back down the road." Miroku leaned back on the chair, his legs uncharacteristically placed on the top of the table. He had pointed in the direction of the shop. "I didn't recall you telling Kagome that you were going to a tailor with all her clothes," he started suspiciously.

"I wouldn't go telling her any time soon, Monk"

He nodded in understanding.

"Hey… how did you know I told her I was going to wash these?"

Miroku squirmed, his eyes suddenly darting to the nearest exit. "Well…" he mumbled. "Remember that big wooden box with all the holes in it?"

Inuyasha hurriedly wiped the blood from his knuckles as he neared the tailor's door.

Inside, he stomped abruptly up to the wood counter and dumped the pile of clothes there, all the while calling for "the service". An elderly man approached.

"Can I help you?"

"The stuff is too small," Inuyasha grunted.

The man lifted the single pair of jeans up, noting the interesting tags and, more importantly, the signs of serious strain exerted on the seat and legs. His eye also caught the skirt. "I see," he said slowly, looking at Inuyasha strangely. "Everyone has their own taste."

"I'll say," Inuyasha agreed. "Some very different than others." He thought back to when he had gone through Kagome's Tokyo.

The old man seemed to weigh his words carefully as he sifted through the array of fashion. "This isn't actually as different as you might think," he said after a moment of handling the petite skirt. "In fact, some people I know even think it's healthy."

The hanyou blinked. "The skirt is healthy?"

"Oh, yes. Even the skirt." His hands tugged at the distended waist of the skirt. The elasticity had been heavily impaired. "Though, you should have brought it to me sooner. This cloth is ruined." He motioned to the limp polyester waistband.

"I would have gotten it let out sooner had I thought it would go this far," Inuyasha confided wearily. "Sometimes," he stated with earnest sentiment, "you just don't see what's right in front of you." He had forgotten about the skirt.

The man nodded in understanding. He had walked around the counter to Inuyasha's side; Inuyasha was sitting on the edge of it morosely. He said, "A lot of times, it starts because of an emotion trauma."

Inuyasha discovered himself to be nodding. Kagome had always been overemotional. "But it's progressed so far beyond that now," he whined. His fist slammed into the table, hard. The clerk suddenly noticed his perfectly shaped nails. "It's out of control!"

The old man's eyes were brimming with tears as he placed a tender hand on Inuyasha's thigh. "You're not alone, boy. I understand."

It had been a long time since Inuyasha had smiled so freely. The man looked at Inuyasha with such colossal comprehension. He hadn't thought anyone other than Kagome capable of such profound empathy.

Soothingly, the old man whispered so quietly that Inuyasha had to bend closer to hear him. His words were filled with the hope of friendship.

"We cross-dressers have to stick together."

Inuyasha managed to find another tailor on the other edge of town. He was much more specific about his situation.

When he arrived back at the inn, he was feeling a great deal more secure with himself. His demonic stature had, and this he was proud of, gotten his items bumped to the front of the seamstress's list. Small droplets of blood dotted some of the outfits where her bloodied fingers had worked too shakily in their haste.

Actually, Inuyasha smiled freely a hell of a lot.

He quickly dumped all the clothes inside the bathroom and left.

Kagome sunk deeper into the large wooden tub, enjoying the purifying feel of clean water. She should get out soon, she thought. Her hands were turning into prunes. Inuyasha would be back soon with her clothes, anyway.

She took a moment to think about that. Clean clothes. Clean, crisp, fresh, odorless clothes…

Her head fell under the surface of the water one more time. Then she rose and got out.

There were no mirrors in the room, but she didn't need them. She knew that when water beads skated down her body and plummeted to the hardwood floors below, that they first had to run across full hips and a swollen belly. She realized that her arms' definition had been hidden beneath a soft layer of blubber, and she understood that a luxurious bath wasn't going to do jack shit about it. Not with the way she planned to continue to eat. It would only get worse.

Besides, why should she stop? She didn't care. If her body could only catch the attention of lecherous perverts like Miroku, why should she even _want_ to maintain it? Hojo had said that he was only interested in her as a person. Her mom didn't feel a need to stop her. Inuyasha had refused to care one way or the other. _Why should she care_? No one else did.

She might as well enjoy her life. She was so much more fortunate than most people.

Kagome ran a hand through her long hair as she wrapped a towel around her form. Against the white linen, her gut jutted out further, for the first time, than her breasts. She refused to care. She went to look for her clothes.

Inuyasha had been on time, for once. She handled her uniform with a swelling anticipation.

Kagome had been prepared for a fight. She had been ready to pull and strain and groan and suck it in until the last article of fabric and all her wobbly bits were in their proper place. What she hadn't expected was to wrap the green uniform skirt around her waist and snap it with ease, no embarrassing muffin-top or anything. And when she pulled her white blouse over her head, it didn't get hitched about her larger boobs or her belly. It slid down comfortably, flattering her expanded figure.

Kagome ran a hand down her sides, along where love handles should have bulged all the way down to her hips. It all felt normal. Her uniform fit. What had happened? Had she lost weight?

She was too ecstatic as she walked out into the serving room of the inn, clad in perfectly fitting clothes, to notice the usual tightness of her bra, or the expected bunching of her panties.

Kagome sat down next to Sango and in front of two plates of roasted ham. All Kagome felt was the urge to stand up and scream her happiness at the top of her lungs. She was, however, salivating over the entrée in front of her too much to do much anything else than stare. She took a few bites before looking up expectantly at Sango.

There was a small pause before exterminator understood, and then she quickly explained, "Oh, uh, I've already eaten."

Kagome looked crestfallen. "Come on, Sango. I can't eat alone!"

"But…"

"You couldn't have eaten that much!" She said as a tempting afterthought, "There's always room for seconds."

The huntress smiled shyly. It hadn't been _that_ much. "I guess I could force down a little more," she agreed in submission, sliding the other serving in front of herself. Kagome was beaming again, and before long Sango had forgotten she'd ever had a first course.

What's more, she was on her third when, in the middle of conversation, she blurted out brightly, "Your clothes look like they're fitting a lot better!"

Kagome smiled radiantly at the compliment, her chopsticks moving again at full speed. The subject quickly turned to Eri's new boyfriend.

They'd get back to hunting the jewel shards tomorrow. Today, they'd let loose and enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Broken Mold**

_143_

In the early days of Man, people moved from place to place together. They were called nomads. They followed their food, their sustenance, like a dog follows its master because they knew no better way to go about it. Then, farming was developed. It entitled a more stationary way of life. Tribes became societies. They remained isolated, but autonomous nonetheless.

As time progressed, so did populations. The largest empires, primarily in Europe and Asia, expanded and conquered. Their cultures slowly affiliated with those suddenly beneath them and those who traded with them. This led to what was called cultural diffusion.

In times before the dark ages to even World War II, more soldiers often died to foreign diseases than to their enemies. They lacked the immunities to the viruses. It was the product of such isolation. A society that has never been in contact with foreign countries could never have developed immunities against oversea diseases, and thus death and sickness reigned on the battlefield.

In America, after the settlers held the remaining Native Americans in check in preserves, many refused to live in the desolate regions under their harsh conditions. They integrated themselves into what was then early American society, and here the cultural diffusion began. However, up until the colonies, the Native Americans had still been a largely nomadic people. Only those already under the influence of the Missions had any significant understanding of farming and agriculture.

If a person is introduced to foreign compounds, that person's metabolism may not be prepared for the change. Going from buffalo meat to the saturated fats of butter, the calories of beer, processed sugar, and the addictions of smoking and gambling wreaked havoc on an already crumbling way of life.

As a result, many were unable to handle the change from tribal life to a society of excess. Where there was once only the land and what it gave you, there was now early industrial marketing. They were able to eat without chasing, or even following, their food. Someone else did it for them at a ridiculously low price. Of those Native Americans who understood what a preserve really was, and instead chose the lesser evil, many became horribly obese.

Feudal Japan was one of the most isolated countries of its time. As such, its culture developed and flourished with almost no outside influence. Cultural diffusion was nonexistent. Without a model of comparison, or even word of it, Japan went on through an extended Dark Age and feudal system, while the rest of Europe, early America and Asia underwent the Renaissance and Enlightenment. In Japan, Shinto was the only form of religion. Like Christianity, its believers later broke off into subcategories, but on a smaller scale. And later, Buddhism spread through China to the small island off its coast.

Here, however, the rural form of shrine Shinto reined. There was no cultural diffusion – except for Kagome Higurashi.

"Pass me that Choco Bar," Sango said loudly. She took another swig out of a 12-ounce cola can and let out a quiet belch.

She leaned forward to grab yet another soft drink from Kagome's backpack. The tiny arch of a tummy bulged in reaction to the effort against the thick wool of her kimono. Neither one of them noticed it, not even the demon slayer.

Kagome's face had once been angular. It had possessed everything that was assumed beautiful in a feudal woman: it had been fragile, it had been innocent, and thus it had said everything that Kagome's personality repudiated. Her face and her body had begged for support, for understanding, for protection. She had been too young to understand the demon world of the past, too small to fend for herself within it. Everything else about her contradicted the very impression that her beauty implied.

Inuyasha had loved that contradiction. Kikyou's cold, hardened eyes had always loomed in the background, a stark contrast to Kagome's brilliant innocence. Kikyou, as he did, had understood the implications of her stature, and she had rebelled against it. She was the most powerful priestess of her time, a soul not fit for such a small body. She had made it fit. But now, whenever he saw her, those eyes still demanded the respect she no longer deserved.

Kagome took another stick of Pocky out of its packet and gnawed on it absentmindedly. She had stopped caring about the taste and texture of what entered her mouth half an hour ago. Now she only sought the mechanical security of the motions.

The miko's face was no longer angular. It had once been, but somewhere between the Bone Eater well and the middle of yet another forest, it had matured to accommodate the soft embrace of the beginnings of a double chin. She looked cute. She didn't look quite as fragile, but she looked cute. It killed Inuyasha to admit it.

Miroku and Inuyasha sat off to the edge of the campsite, the girls on the far opposite. Beside Inuyasha, Miroku sat with tears welling up in his eyes. "They had such a bright future," he sobbed to Inuyasha. "She had such a firm, tight ass."

"You had better be referring to Sango."

"_Sango_ had such a firm, tight ass."

Supplemented, Inuyasha returned to brooding. _She had such a firm, tight ass…_

The group had been in the same forest for five days now. They had, as Miroku figured it, walked as close to the other edge of the woods as humanly possible without seeing the clearing, then turned around, walked back to the other edge of the woods, stopped, turned around, and repeated the process several more times. During this, all Inuyasha could stare at was the voluptuous sway of Kagome's hips – and there was quickly becoming a lot to sway-, all he could listen to was Kagome's incessant whining for a "breather", and all he could think about was how many god damn portions of high quality rations he had paid for out of his _own pocket_ to allow her to gorge herself on that had led her to getting so _fucking_ fat in the first place, just so that she even had the _opportunity_ to bitch all day about her legs hurting.

_She won't have felt pain until **she** gets slammed in the face by a giant wolf demon, _he thought angrily. His wounds had healed, but Miroku's arm was still in a cast. _See if I take another hit for that fat bitch_.

Deep down, he knew he'd still step in front of a train for her.

On the other side of the camp, it was Sango's turn to look at Kagome expectantly. Kagome, however, didn't know how to respond.

"What?"

Sango looked confused. "When do we stop eating?" She asked bluntly, expecting an easy answer. "I mean... I feel a little silly asking you because of… you know… lately…" Sango trailed off, looking at Miroku's aloof figure against a tree for support. She didn't want to think of her friend as fat just yet, maybe later, after just a few more pounds. "This stuff is so addicting. I don't think I've ever felt so full in my life," she squeaked. "But I'm still hungry!"

Kagome laughed. It wasn't a laugh between friends, but that of a parent down to a small child. _We shouldn't be eating this in the first place_, she thought breezily. Kagome had at first been confused as to why Sango didn't understand why her friend was getting so tubby. But lately it had slowly dawned on her; Sango didn't understand that her future food was loaded in calories. _She doesn't even know what a calorie is_, Kagome realized in astonishment. Her gaze drifted down the packet of Pocky in hand. "You stop," she thought back to one of her fights with Inuyasha, one before the pantry, "…when you feel better."

Sango innocently placed another Hershey Kiss in her mouth. "I don't think I feel any better," she confessed, "Only bloated." Sango put down the unfinished Pepsi can and stood up. "I do think I've had enough for now, though," she told Kagome, walking closer to the fire.

Vaguely, Kagome wondered if Sango still had such a firm, tight ass.

The next day, the group set out on a straight path through the forest. They would, and Inuyasha made sure of it, get out of this particular maze by dusk.

"Want me to carry your backpack?" Sango asked hopefully. Since they got up, she had been gravitating around Kagome.

"Yeah, sure." Kagome slid it off her shoulders and slumped forward when it came into her arms. The large yellow backpack had hardly emptied at all from yesterday's binge.

As they walked on, carefully attentive to the road, Sango's hand drifted instinctively to the depths of the pack, pulling out a different treat each time. No one said anything. There were more important matters.

Whenever Miroku stood next to Sango lately, it was an unfamiliar experience. It was unfamiliar because there was no air of suspense. Sango could even say that she felt an impression of companionship next to him, not of a date rape waiting to happen. She walked next to Miroku with negligent ease, even security, like Kagome next to Inuyasha. Sango didn't understand why she suddenly felt safe next to Miroku.

She unwrapped another Choco Bar and shoved the contents into her mouth.

"You're certainly eating a lot of those," Miroku said finally, after walking in contented silence for a long while. Kagome listened, her own silence not quite as content. Inuyasha walked several yards beyond them, purposefully ignoring all of them.

Sango nodded quickly, taking a second treat out from the pack. "They taste amazing," she gushed enthusiastically. "You've got to try these." She exposed a second Choco Bar. Miroku took it willingly, unwrapping it, and nibbled off a small, testing bite. The rest of it was inhaled in seconds.

Kagome smiled, glad that they liked her choices.

In the hours that followed, Kagome could only think of one thing: going home. The foliage around the forest was low, with sharp branches jutting out into the only visible paths. After the first day, Kagome made the decision of wearing anything that covered her legs. The sharp undergrowth had successfully shredded her sweats, and now it was working on her denims.

As if that wasn't enough to get pissed about, her entire wardrobe was getting tight again. She had lost weight without trying once, but here it was sneaking back again! She hated it. Her stomach, which had fit perfectly within the confines of her pants before they entered the forest, had grown outward to sloppily overflow the front and sides of her jeans. It rumbled lightly with each step she took.

And her thighs! Kagome thought she was going to die. As if getting that huge, jiggling butt back wasn't bad enough, it felt suspiciously like it had brought a few more friends. Her thighs would touch any day now.

At least she didn't have to carry that heavy backpack.

Sango had handed Miroku a few more sweets before Kagome stopped paying attention. She wasn't really all that hungry right then, but if those two wanted to snack she wouldn't stop them. She vaguely overheard Miroku commenting on Sango's womanly curves, but she didn't seem to disagree or become offended. He didn't try to act on it.

"Have you sensed any shards yet?" Miroku asked later, as they neared the edge of the forest.

Kagome shook her head. "None."

Rumors of shards had dried up. The wolf demon had been the last one in weeks. Their plan, as best they could come up with, was to wander the countryside until they detected another one. It didn't seem to be working.

Miroku's hand slid over Sango's shoulder they walked. She let it remain there. The perverse urges he usually experienced were oddly absent in that forest, and she welcomed a hint of legitimate intimacy. Their pace slowed, much to Kagome's delight and Inuyasha's detest.

Miroku had never noticed the change. The party walked on, out of the forest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Broken Mold**

_159_

Inuyasha rifled through the contents of Kagome's shrinking backpack. _Ramen_, he thought. He couldn't get it out of his head. There had to be one more packet.

_"You ate the last of it yesterday,"_ Kagome had told him. _"We'll go back and restock later." _

But he didn't want to walk back to the village. He wanted his Ramen, now. His hands shook as she threw aside hairbrushes, shampoos, deodorants, but no Ramen. The wench had been telling the truth.

Their last stop before heading back for the Bone Eater well had been to a small, isolated temple off the beaten path. They had found it only after Inuyasha had heard the screams of help from the priest who tended it. His corpse had been found near the ornamented front gate. They had disposed of the body properly.

The shrine itself was mysterious enough to permit exploration. It stood in the middle of the forest, packed in tightly between thickly congested trees. The impact of the seeing the shrine, then, gave the impression that the very forest had grown up around it, undisturbed. _Even, _Inuyasha had thought, _like it was supposed to be here_.

It looked naturally beautiful, like it hadn't been intended to strike a feeling of majesty in its viewers, yet always managed to do so on accident. It was beautiful. Kagome's double chin had shook while she had said something to that effect. Inuyasha couldn't remember her exact words.

He stood now in front of where Kagome lay sleeping. The temple had been found to house several large beds in separate rooms, surprisingly lavish in comparison to any other temple he had come across, even those within city grounds. A half-eaten pack of chewy candy lay beside Kagome's bed, its contents now scattered about the floor. Inuyasha sucked in his dignity and picked it up.

Part of him wanted to suspect Kagome of hording the rest of the noodles to herself, as if they were hidden somewhere in the room. It was hard, but he had to be reasonable. He had to try and focus on not ransacking the place. He placed one of the candies in his mouth and chewed. At that moment, he understood why Kagome couldn't stop eating.

Shippo had looked at Inuyasha accusingly from where he had been sleeping on Kagome's cushiony stomach. The hanyou had growled. Shippo's eared drooped in defeat and he placed his head back onto his makeshift pillow, while Inuyasha popped another sweet into his mouth as he walked out of her room. He carried several other food items in hand.

There is something to be noted about the fur of the legendary Fire Rat. For one, the armor that it weaves is incredibly powerful, which suggests the delicacy of the fabric. When compared to chain mail, it's the iron rings of the armor that fail before the rodent's pelt. Secondly, it is lighter than wool. It will never hinder a warrior's movement. To wear a garb composed entirely of its fur means two things: the wearer is incredibly safe, and the wearer is incredibly itchy.

To counteract the rough spines of the fur, Inuyasha usually wore under it a white silk replica of the leggings and haori. However lately, _someone_ had outgrown all of her clothes and forced Inuyasha to let her borrow the silken undergarments. He knew he was going to develop a rash.

His hand reached into a small cardboard box again and extracted another piece of candy. He had started to look out a nearby window at the sky, only to find the massive trunk of a tree blocking the view. He already knew it was late, anyway. Not that it mattered – he wasn't so weak as to need regular sleep.

Inuyasha yawned loudly and scratched at his irritated side. Maybe he should just make the cow walk around naked. That'd make her want to lose a few.

He walked on down the hallway, counting the minutes until it was Miroku's turn to keep watch.

Kagome Higurashi was not a morning person. Waking up in the middle of nowhere, in someone else's bed, in someone else's clothes, to the sounds of a dead forest a good morning did not make. Not to mention she hadn't bathed in weeks. She just wanted to sleep. She didn't want to think of the pain of running a comb through her tangled mess of hair.

Not to mention Inuyasha wanted Ramen. She knew what he was like when he didn't get what he wanted.

Kagome's mouth stretched in a yawn and she heaved herself out of bed. Maybe the shrine had a bath somewhere in it; they had stopped the hunt for the priest's killer too late to do anything but sleep.

Melted chocolate had crusted itself to Kagome's fingertips. She wiped it off absentmindedly on the haori. Inuyasha was going to love that.

As if on cue, Inuyasha strode in, not even glancing at the miko, and crouched down in front of her backpack. "There's a bath up the hall," he said absently, digging through the contents. "Sango just got out."

"You're not going to find any Ramen."

Inuyasha pulled from it several chocolate bars and walked out of the room. He hadn't glanced up at the miko.

Sango sat atop the pink satin of one of the temple's many beds. Her hair was still dripping wet. Miroku was near her, happily relaxing on the floor, his face hidden behind one of Kagome's comics. They rested easily in the company of one another, neither paying enough attention to the anomaly nor their guest to make it otherwise.

At least, Sango didn't. Miroku hadn't made any questionable advances on her in weeks, providing the lucky bastard with a temporarily trusting relationship. _First one of his life_, she had mused, casually looking him over. His face held the same stoic seriousness it had always held lately, even while reading a manga. His eyes were dutifully screening the pages.

His hand twitched. Sango saw it. When it twitched again, he almost lost his grip on the papers. When he noticed her watching him, he smiled disarmingly. "It's a good book, Miss Sango."

"I'll bet." She didn't believe the excuse for a second.

They sat again in silence. While the monk didn't notice a change, Sango had become uncomfortable. She didn't know why, but his presence suddenly made her feel insecure. When he raised his head to look at her, he wasn't looking at her body. He was looking at her face. For the moments when his gaze did fall downward, he didn't look in sexual admiration as he used to. But, he didn't look in dissatisfaction, either. He just looked at her with a docile kind of respect. She didn't know why, but an unexpected image of Miroku came to mind: he was the farmer at market, ogling the county's prize pig.

His hand twitched again, and when he looked at her again it finally clicked. He looked at her like he had looked at Kagome; in a pitiful sense of reverence for something he had once found attractive. He wasn't respecting her as a woman; he just didn't have the urge to disrespect her.

She never thought that respect could make her feel this ugly.

Miroku turned the page, looking at the man in the next column. Vaguely, he wondered if this man was the main character. He wondered why, because he had stopped reading after the second page. His mind had deviated to more important issues. _Maybe Naraku put some sick kind of spell on us_, he thought, his eyes drifting upward to Sango's form. A small roll of a soft tummy bulged over the green cloth of her kimono, and against the white fabric of the blouse.

_Maybe she's doing it out of spite_. Her clothes looked strained against her hips and, Miroku felt a pang of sorrow, burgeoning ass._ At least she's getting huge_, he thought suddenly, looking at her rapidly blossoming chest. And it was true: Sango had developed a bloated hourglass figure. It was also getting more and more bloated as the days went on.

He stared in defeat at the manga; jealous of the attention the poorly drawn man was getting from several women in the comic. Miroku hadn't seen another girl in weeks, and his traveling companions were quickly getting stale in regards to his tastes.

The demonslayer adjusted her place on the bed. An unfamiliar feeling of snugness had crept into her dress and she struggled to get rid of it. It had been hard enough squeezing back into her clothes after the bath.

Sango kept looking back at Miroku, hoping to find the habitual wanton lust present in his eyes. She found none of it.

So what if he didn't want to grope her? That's a good thing! Indignantly, she returned to staring at the ceiling. Then, the snugness returned, and for the first time the realization dawned on her. Had she gained weight?

For reasons beyond her control, something had built up inside Sango. Her emotions, usually sensible and relaxed, had evolved while she lay atop her bed. The need, she realized, was neither sensible nor relaxed. It was craving. She could feel the taut strain of the skirt around her legs. And, even while laying down, the secure tightness of the fabric around her chest. She felt, she decided, incredibly bloated.

And she needed Miroku to tell her otherwise. His gaze, through no fault of his own, had slipped from indifferent to repugnance. She wanted it to return to adoration. She wanted, with no better way to describe it, his hands. She wanted their loathsome grip to take her, and tell her what Miroku refused to: that she was still attractive.

She realized it was a little depraved that she had been conditioned to require such an affirmation, but she had dealt with that demon. She just wanted him to tell her that she wasn't fat.

She slid to the side of the bed and her legs dangled over it. Her body might have sunk deeper into the plush pink of the silk than usual, but it wasn't something she paid attention to. Miroku had looked up at her again, and she raised her arms in a stretch. She moaned in feigned pleasure, asserting her enlarged bosom forward while she did so. Her woolen garments had been struggling to contain her engorged assets as of late, creating an increasingly obscene V-neck. Miroku's attention had piqued. His hand twitched more suggestively.

Miroku had forgotten about the book in his hands, until Sango strode over to pick it up. Her steps were sultry and she walked with what could almost be deduced as a forced sway to her hips. He didn't really think on the matter. His eyes had drifted from the thick curve of her stomach to above it, below it, and anywhere else Sango suddenly decided she wanted his view to say "You're still perfect" to. And it did; he did.

"This any good," she asked, flipping absently through the pages. Miroku nodded dumbly, staring at the side of a clothed thigh inches from his face. "You were really caught up in it." His dumb nod continued.

Looking into the book, she had turned away from him, giving him full view of two succulent globes. They were much larger than he remembered. Drool gradually began to cascade from the side of his mouth onto his robe.

"Oops!" she squeaked, dropping the comic on the ground. She was sure she didn't need to. But regardless, she found herself bending down to get it.

It was at this point that things started to go astray.

Wool has never been the most pliable of fabrics. Back in Sango's time, the quality was incredibly unreliable, yet these inferior products were expected to last far longer in such an economy. So it wasn't terribly surprising when, as she bent down in the skintight skirt, a loud RIP down the side accompanied the action, providing Miroku full view of a creamy thigh.

His hands, both suddenly overflowing with all the wonderful sensations of an overfilled water balloon, were too preoccupied in their mission to defend him from the monumental asswhooping that ensued.

Inuyasha scoffed, looking away from Kagome. "I don't see anything wrong with using the shrine," he stated. They sat in what had been deemed Kagome's room; Inuyasha was sitting in the corner by choice.

"It just doesn't seem right," Kagome sighed, "The priest gets killed by something we _still_ haven't been able to find, and here we are sleeping in his beds and eating his food."

"It's not like he'll be using it."

"You know what I mean, Inuyasha."

"That doesn't mean I give a damn," he growled, standing up to leave. "Besides, why would a priest have so many beds if he didn't want company?"

"I'd still like to get back home." She thought for a minute, then added: "Don't you want Ramen?"

The hanyou looked confused for a moment, then said, dumbstruck, "Not really." He headed for the door, saying, "Get your stuff packed. We'll leave before nightfall."

Later that night, Kagura wandered around the instant-shrine stupidly. "Where… where are they?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Broken Mold**

_171_

Kagome never did understand how the grass around the well always stayed so short. It was feudal Japan; it's not like the villagers came out once a week and mowed it for a quarter. So why, then, did it only come up a couple inches instead of brush against her knees?

"I've already made my decision, Inuyasha."

She waited.

She blinked.

"I said I've already made my decision!"

The hanyou's gaze was apathetic. Lately, what she had thought to be nonexistent relationship had in fact crumbled away. This was a nonexistent one. "So?"

Kagome fidgeted. "Well, aren't you going to try to stop me?"

"I'd like my clothes back later, if that's what you mean."

She hated herself for being unable to look him in the eye. "I-I know. I'll have new clothes when I get back. I'll wash it, too, before I bring it back." There was a short pause. "Or, you could come pick it up later."

He shrugged. "I can wait."

Kagome Higurashi wanted desperately to tell Inuyasha he could go shove his haori so far up his ass only Miroku and an excavation team could find it. She wanted to tell him that she didn't care if he wanted to put on this callous act. It wouldn't affect her. But, what she wanted most of all, was to believe that it was still just a front.

Kagome's face had run the gambit from angry to indignant to pleading to frustrated. It had stopped there. Full lips grasps at half-formed words as she tried to force him to make her stay. Nothing came out. She stood there, facing away from him, staring at the several planks of wood that suddenly looked so scary. Her thick arms were limp at her sides. She couldn't come up with anything. She felt her tail between her legs.

"So I'll get to that then."

Inuyasha waited patiently.

Who was he to resent her? So she got fat, big deal! Was that grounds to shun her? What, he didn't like her undefined gut, so now he's going to go pout in the corner?

Kagome Higurashi smiled: frustration to avengement. Who was he to resent her? Was her tummy too soft? Did she eat too much? It suddenly dawned on her that he ate more. He'd been eating a lot more. Behind her wasn't Inuyasha the Demon. Behind her was Inuyasha the Denier. He wasn't the chiseled-out-of-stone Superman anymore. After that shrine, he'd traded it in for the molded-out-of-jelly life of a couch potato.

Behind her wasn't a super-jock staring scornfully at the jellyrolls that were her body. It was every fattie at Weight Watchers who "didn't have a problem." His strong chest jiggled. His solid abs bulged and hung over his waistband. His double chin echoed the frown on his face.

If she were to go away, he'd be in her time begging for candy before the end of the day. If she were gone a month, she'd probably come back to a crush that was fatter than she was. _This_ was the knowledge brought her comfort as she let herself fall down the well.

The hard dirt of the well had hurt more than she remembered. Falling objects, Kagome mused, fell at the same speed, but not the same momentum. She couldn't stop herself from blushing when she had to struggle to climb the ladder out.

As she walked out of the well house and into her home, all she could think about was how badly she didn't want to go to school. When she realized this, she had to repress the urge to slap herself. What Kagome had failed to notice was her mother, standing at the window, anxiously scrubbing away at what looked to be clean dishes.

"Kagome?"

She had stridden right past the kitchen, missing the initial shock on Ms. Higurashi's face. It was good that she had. She would have burst out laughing at the sight.

Now she was blushing. Her mother looked horrified and dumbfounded at the same time. Though it was surprising Kagome could tell; she never managed to bring herself to look above the woman's perfectly slender neck and chin. It suddenly hurt to look her in the eye.

For the last few months, things had progressed in a fairly linear fashion for a group of five teenagers traveling along in feudal Japan combating demons. To her, the change from the cycle of walk-eat-walk-fight-eat-sleep to the cycle of eat-walk-eat-eat-fight-eat-sleep-repeat-with-snacking had been gradual and therefore relatively acceptable. Her increased lethargy coupled with her increased gluttony had resulted in exactly what she and her friends and anyone else would have expected it to result in: her increased waistline.

However, Ms. Higurashi had not been present for the three months when her only daughter had managed to balloon herself out of Abercrombie & Fitch and straight into the Lane Bryant catalog. She hadn't been there when Kagome unwittingly discovered let-out seams or when she found her seemingly uncapped appetite. No, all Mrs. Higurashi had been present for was the honor of paying for her daughter's first forays into midnight binging, her first chocolate-overdoses and saturated tummy-aches; her first vehement attempts at relieving the pressures of her relationships by straining the pressures of her waistband.

Was this the reward she got for all her time spent with her nose diverged in parenting books? To see, when she stood back and let her flower grow by its own sunlight, that what she created in doing so was not a flower, but a bloated cactus, greedily gorging itself on the very sunlight she allowed? This wasn't what she wanted! She wanted a rose, not some thick-stemmed abomination, wilting under its own gelatinous weight!

"I'm so glad you're home," her voice squeaked. "We've all been worried sick about you. Your grandfather can only make so many excuses without you ever being present…"

Kagome nodded anxiously, rushing forward with only a warning of "I've missed you so much!" before she enveloped the older woman in a soggy hug.

She knew, from every parenting book she had ever read, that she should be happy to receive such an open gesture of affection from her daughter at this age. And she was happy. But she couldn't stop herself revolting at the feeling of her daughter's suddenly roly-poly stomach against her, or of her pendulous breasts which, embarrassingly even to her, were crushed in on themselves when Kagome failed to account for her new assets in the bear hug. How could she be expected to be wholly appreciative of her daughter's return when, in bittersweet addition, it and she came attached with forty extra pounds that also begged her immediate attention?

Her arms, encircling Kagome's torso, sank into the malleable flesh of her sides that not too long ago had consisted only of the lean abs of a local track star, of the sides that had been the understated curves of an understated fitness regimen. Now, she found the obtuse bulges of love handles squirming against her arms and the soft pliancy of back fat beneath her palms.

The softness of the new flesh had been compounded by the softness of a foreign fabric. And, when the realization hit her that her tubby girl was clad not in her clothes, but Inuyasha's, it made all the puzzle pieces fall into place. Ms. Higurashi slid out of the hug.

Kagome was ignorant of the silent connections. "I wanted to come back sooner, I really did," she chirped apologetically. It was so sincere she almost believed it. "But there was just so much that needed to get done! I came to visit as… soon as…"

"Oh, honestly, Kagome!"

"What?"

"If you're pregnant, just say so! The living conditions in that Dark Ages hell hole are hardly such that I'd want to subject my granddaughter to!"

"_Nani!_"

The look in her mother's eyes remained offensively compassionate. "Look, you know that I wasn't too old myself when your father," she paused briefly, contemptuously, at the subject, "and I had you. Don't you think that I'd recognize all the warning signs? The depression? The moodiness? The evasiveness? You expect me to believe that you couldn't come and see your family for _three _months?" She paused again, contemplating taking the final plunge in accusations.

She did. Happily. "The weight gain?" Her fingers assembled in firing-squad lineup to point, in disgusting disdain, at the prominent outline of her daughter's belly against the white haori. "Really, Kagome. I should have known something was wrong the instant you couldn't stuff that plump butt of yours into those jeans. You were practically – no, literally – overflowing them! …You knew that, didn't you? You, the best track runner Tokyo High School has seen in a decade!" Her mother spat the words in direct defiance of that which she fought to explain. How else, after all, could it have happened? She was such a promising athlete. No one in his or her right mind would have consciously thrown it all away! And for what?

Kagome suddenly felt all too conscious of the way her saddlebag thighs rubbed together. What had happened to those long, seductive legs of the athlete, she wondered, able to feel the slight sagging of her entire body, under no force save her obesity's own gravitational pull.

She felt an incredulous sense of anger rushing to her cheeks. Her mom saw embarrassment. "I'm not pregnant! I'm still a virgin!" she shrieked, rushing past the woman, upstairs, to rummage through her dresser for something acceptable at school.

* * *

Inuyasha didn't feel like going back to the village. Instead, he found himself walking west, prepared to work off some steam.

"See if I care," he grumbled aloud to any woodland creature that would dare to disagree. There were none.

_There were none. _He couldn't remember how long he had been walking, but he was sure that this was not the forest he had entered from the clearing around the well. It had never been so quiet and lifeless.

Several possible conclusions reached him. None worried him too much.

"Inuyasha."

A chill ran up his spine at the sound of the voice. The stench of death permeated the air, coming from every direction but hers. He didn't allow himself to think about what deception this illusion tried to achieve. He moved closer, dried foliage and dead branches crunching beneath his feet.

"Kikyo."

It took him a moment to realize just what he saw standing before him. He had repeated himself at some point after he saw her, but found the tone of the statement to be questioning. Kikyo did not smile.

"It's been awhile," he said involuntarily. "I've… I've missed you."

The only trace of a smile came when, bitterly, she said, "There has been a lot of me to miss."

He cringed. She had said it so bluntly, so matter-of-factly that he knew she didn't care. At least not in the way she should. Whatever he'd say would have no relevance to the fact. Still, he struggled for the right words.

"You've gotten fat."

Inuyasha blinked. It took him a moment to register what she had said. Then, submissively, he agreed: "Yeah, I guess that's what I was thinking." He smiled. "You always could read me."

When Kikyo laughed, it was hollow, devoid of the sense of pleasure the action was supposed to relay, regardless of from where it was derived. She simply went through the expected motions, feigning a soul that wasn't there. "No, _you've_ gotten fat," she emphasized. Inuyasha was red.

"I have not!"

She looked at him curiously then quickly dropped the subject. "Okay, you haven't."

Inuyasha was reluctant to take in her profile. She had, to his dismay, actually ballooned as much as Kagome – if not more. Her Shinto robes, once fitted loosely to the woman's figure, were tight and disheveled at best. They struggled to cover her expanded midsection. Inuyasha, unable to look away, saw that the white blouse was no longer cut off at the waist by a sash: it hung from her shoulders and drooped against her potbelly, Kagome's potbelly. There was no extra fabric to restrain.

When the miko spoke, a large double chin rumbled, mocking the dry seriousness of her tone. "I believe this is your fault, or the girl's. Where is my reincarnation?"

He watched her make the demands. Her hands hung at her sides, clutching a bow. She displayed no more emotion in the movements of her body as she did in the limpness of her voice. When he thought of this, one unifying adjective came to mind.

Flabby rolls swelled under Kikyo's robes: under her chest, under her arms, along her hips. Flabby demands came from her lips; demanding that he bring Kagome to her, sacrifice to her, for no better reason than she deserved it. He owed it to her. She didn't seem to expect to have to enforce them. When he looked at her, looking at him, he knew that she expected him to obey her out of the love that they once shared.

"Whatever is happening to me is happening because my counterpart has deviated from her soul's forsworn path. If she thinks she can get away with it, I will show her that she is sorely mistaken."

"It's her life, not yours. Yours has ended," Inuyasha growled.

"That may be true," she conceded, "But if I continue to grow, I will be unable to fulfill my promise to you."

"Which one is that?"

"To bring you back to hell with me. Do you see me being able to string a bow around this bulk?"

As if on cue, the miko's stomach surged forward a little more, revealing its pale flesh among the folds of her garments. "Oh," she said absently. "I seem to be eating."

* * *

Kagome shoved the latter half of a jelly donut into her mouth, chewing loudly. Her mouth opened slightly between every bite in candid spite. A small droplet of purple goop landed atop a cotton-covered breast. Her mother turned to stare out the window again.

What Kagome had found to fit her were her mom's worn-in maternity jeans and sweater. They, like the rest of the retro collection, dated back to the period of her mother's life where, with Souta, she'd lost that perfect figure for which she harbored such obscenely proud feelings for and expected Kagome to share. Unlike her first pregnancy where she had craved salad and rabbit food, Ms. Higurashi's second lobbied for a cuisine of a much more sensual nature.

By the second trimester, the trim housewife had been an unprecedented thirty pounds over her expected pregnancy weight. The bloated curves that resulted were eerily similar to Kagome's. Not that she cared; she was too busy celebrating the school's policy for allowing casual outfits in "emergencies." Though she'd probably be expected to change when assigned a new uniform.

Kagome left without a goodbye. She walked to school alone, silently dreading the reaction of her peers.

* * *

There are seven rules to which all living organisms must adhere to be, in fact, living. Of the first is a structure of cells; anything from an ant to an elephant has it. Second is the ability to reproduce. Then, a metabolism: the sum of chemical reactions within an entity. Following down the line are the laws of homeostasis, heredity, evolution, and interdependence.

To be human is to have sentient thought. It is to possess the faculties of logic, of judgment, of reason, and of choice. It is to live a life unfettered by the chains of instinct, of tradition, of the past. It entails all the abstractions that science can do without. It defines a person, not an organism.

Kikyo managed to retain all of the former and none of the latter. By definition, Kikyo was alive. She was a living, breathing, moving Thing. However, a human being cannot live its life without advancement, without progress, without achievement. Kikyo could. Her advancement had stopped when Naraku's claws had found her flesh. Her progress had stopped when she was laid to rest. The only achievements had been achieved as priestess living her life and defending the Shikon no Tama.

What stood before him was a dirty sacrilege to that life. Her only aspirations were that of her deathbed on the outskirts of the Jewel's shrine: vengeance. What had once been a noble priestess, devout in the preservation of life, was now a profane beast devoted only in its quest for sustenance, and the destruction that sustenance demanded.

Vaguely, Inuyasha was finally able to make the connection he should have been able to make on that first meeting in the crags. This was not Kikyo. This was not even her memory. Kikyo had been beautiful. But now, in her eyes, he could see that which its face had always attempted to hide: its true nature. The golem of mud and bone was not an avatar to Kikyo's brilliance; it was a festering tribute to her final, misguided transgressions.

Inuyasha had always made it an unspoken policy not to draw his conclusions of Kikyo until he knew he had all the facts. Now, he had them. This was Kikyo.

Kikyo's mind had once been sharp in the efforts of its goals. Kikyo's mind had been stunted by the numbing hurt of his apparent betrayal. The golem had been constructed from that.

Kikyo's emotions had once been so strong as to find love in the face of a bastard half-demon, and sought to right what had been done wrong by nature. Her emotions had been withered by the contradiction of her would-be mate as her murder, her faith stamped out. They had been tunneled into the sole act of reactionary anger; the need for revenge; for justice. The golem had been constructed from that.

And when, unexpectedly, the spirit had been discovered to be in use, the golem had stolen just fragment: an unused remnant of a past life. An unnecessary piece of a whole had been used as host for the priestess. From a frozen mind, a shared soul, and the husk of a body, the golem had been constructed.

Inuyasha no longer looked at that which had been Kikyo in confusion. Now he looked at it in understanding, and in pity. He did not know why she was still allowed the divine right to use the sacred arrow. She did not deserve it.

"Your right to me ended when you died," he announced coldly, his eyes steel. "If you try to rectify whatever has happened to you by endangering Kagome, I will kill you without remorse."

Kikyo looked at him with passive comprehension. "Alright."

He didn't know what made him do it, but from his pocket he extracted an Oni Bar and handed it to her as he began back towards the well. She took it graciously, and he knew then she'd devour it as eagerly as all the others had.

* * *

"Is that Kagome?"

Eri nodded. "I saw her before school. Oink, oink."

Yuma nodded, stifling a giggle. She struggled to act respectful while the group dressed out. "You're one to talk," she said. It had been less to defend a friend and more to antagonize another.

"Oh, shut up," Eri cried, "I'm just going through a growth spurt!"

"Those make you taller, not wider. Honestly, Eri, I don't understand how anyone could let themselves go right after they snag a guy."

Eri blushed, tugging on the school's skimpy PE uniform. The shorts looked more like a red bikini bottom than something assigned by a public school. But more importantly, it did absolutely nothing to hide the extra fifteen pounds the poor girl had accumulated around her hips. "It's not my fault!" she gushed. "Sato knows all the best restaurants. I'm lucky I'm not her size," she groaned, gesturing to the PE office Kagome had entered.

"Yeah, right. Your boyfriend made you fat," Yuma said. "I totally believe you."

"It's true!"

Yuma sighed and turned to the girl. Both now ready for PE, she took a moment in the locker room to prove her point: she poked Eri's slack tummy. "If a guy scores a girl with a firm stomach and tight ass like you, I don't think he's going to willingly throw it away. It's your fault for not ordering salad."

"B-but he hates it when I do that!"

"Sure he does." She rolled her eyes. "Listen, you know how strict Ms. Yama is about fitness. If you pack on any more, she'll kick you off track for sure and there goes your easy A."

"I don't think I'm that fat," Eri grumbled.

Inside, Kagome Higurashi stood in what could almost be considered a sports den. Football, baseball, and basketball memorabilia littered the walls and tables. Several gym teachers sat at chairs arbitrarily placed around the room, focusing either on paperwork or the college stats on the television. Miss Yama saw her first.

"_Kagome?"

* * *

_

So, this was general PE. Kagome didn't know whether she should be happy, proud or embarrassed. She was, after all, no longer required to be able to run miles at a time. Not to mention that she and her friends could have ran circles around any butterball here. However, she was now one of them. Embarrassment took precedence.

The entire class didn't want to be here. Sure, Kagome knew that this was the expected reaction to PE, but she'd never actually been in a class that displayed it. She'd never actually felt it herself, either. But with each heavy step she took, she wanted less and less to be there.

"Kagome? Is that you?"

She had been dreading this encounter since she got back from the well. "Oh, hi, Hojo."

Subconsciously, the look that she received had been expected. She felt herself wanting to curl up into a ball and disappear. He had quickly acknowledged her weight with a cursory glance at her figure, then quickly returning to lock eyes with her. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so horrible.

"You look healthy," he said optimistically, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the crowd. The teacher would be several minutes late anyway. "Now I know what you've been doing for three months." His tone had shifted into what might have been resentment.

"Hojo, I've been sic-"

"I know what you've been. You also haven't been at your house, either."

"I was probably at hospital."

He nodded. She had an excuse for everything. "You know I care for you, right? I wouldn't want anything to happen to you?"

That radiant smile of hers appeared. It was dwarfed by her pudgy face. "Yeah, Hojo, I know."

"I always bring you stuff to help you feel better, and I'm always devoting my time to you." He was looking at her seriously now.

"And I appreciate it! It's just…" His hand covered her mouth in mock-drama.

"It's time that I start thinking about myself, Kagome. I can't just waste my time on someone who clearly doesn't return my feelings. There are only so many brownie points for dating a girl like you."

Kagome frowned. "What's a 'girl like me'?" she mumbled against his hand.

"Well, it's just that you're sick all the time. I can't really enjoy having you as a girlfriend, if that's what you'd even call this after one date. All I get from this relationship are the girls gushing 'He's so loyal' and 'Ooh, he's so caring.' After today, when word gets around about how fat you've gotten, I won't even have that. I'll just be some pathetic loser who has to hold onto you because I can't catch anything better."

Kagome was staring at him, the embarrassment returning full-force. "Is that how you really feel?"

"Yes."

"Then go ahead," she said, a look of exasperated resignation appearing. "Dump me. It makes my life easier."

"I know how hard this must… Wait, what?"

She thought for a second, and then said, "It's fine. I think it'll be good for both of us."

He was shocked into silence.

With that, a whistle blew and she walked off to her class, and he to his.

"This is Kagome Higurashi. She's been transferred to this class temporarily," the dead voice of Mr. Ikuto droned. He pointed her in the direction of her place in the lineup.

A few of the girls had giggled at the announcement of her name. Glancing around at the class, she didn't see why. They were here for the same reason she was. Most of them could use a little more exercise, Kagome mused, looking at the large array of soft stomachs and thick thighs.

She didn't have time to think on the subject further. Mr. Ikuto had barked an order for arm stretches while he took role. The class obeyed, sort of. Kagome and a few others took to warming up; the rest stood around staring listlessly at the instructor. Across the courtyard, she could see the guys' class actually participating. The girls were just waiting for their chance to socialize.

When the class was ordered to stretch their legs, Kagome watched as only a handful applied themselves to trying to touch their toes. None of them were quite flexible enough to reach their goal. Somehow, Kagome had conveniently forgotten about her own lack of flexibility. That, or she refused to admit it.

When she bent down, prepared to excel at one of the few things she thought she was still good at, several things happened. The first was a not entirely new sensation, which could only be described as the bunching of belly rolls. It occurred to her that this alone would make her toes an almost impossible task. Second the ever-changing center of balance from her enlarged chest. Third: the pallid plumber's crack that emerged, much to the chagrin of the girl behind her.

When Kagome's hands failed to descend past her knees, able to only touch ballooned thigh, the image it created could have been considered comical. Once listening to the rumors to be spread in later periods, one couldn't help but laugh. Kagome was not laughing.

Her slow descent to her ankles would have continued painstakingly, had not the instructor moved on to leg presses. She managed to fail equally badly at each of the following stretches.

When it came time, she had imagined crunches to go a little more smoothly. Sure, she knew she couldn't do them, what with her abs being made out of jelly and all. The last time she remembered exercising those muscles was when she leaned over a table to grab the butter. Even that hadn't gone well.

However, most of the other girls didn't look too toned in that area either. They wouldn't possibly hold it against her if she did a few less? They managed ten of the required twenty-five. She might have done three. They later held it against her.

Mondays and Fridays are jogging days in Mr. Ikuto's rigorous PE course. He had made this abundantly clear first semester. If he had made it clear to Kagome, she would have made sure to stay in the feudal era an extra day or so, or she might have just lost her alarm clock until around second period.

After the class had walked to the track, he rattled off instructions that everyone supposedly knew: "You have six minutes to complete two laps. You'll be graded on past times. If you walk, you'll run it again."

Kagome did what she had been conditioned to do. She ran, yet heavy footfall did nothing but cause her to fall farther behind the rest of the class. Flabby thighs shuddered with each jarring step. Beneath the snug PE sweater, her gut bounced with the rhythm of her gait. She couldn't suck it in. Worse yet, the locker room wasn't somewhere a girl changed into a sports bra.

For the first time in her life, Kagome knew what it felt like to come in last. By the time she'd rounded the second lap, the thin uniform was practically dripping with sweat. Beet-red and gasping for breath, she didn't make the six-minute mark.

"Run it again," Mr. Ikuto said. "There's still plenty of time left."

"But…" was the only rebuttal the girl could rasp. As she stumbled past the bleachers for her second run, a thin girl puffed up her cheeks to the amusement of a group.

There had been a time when Kagome wouldn't have minded being the only one still left on the track. It had been the same time when her antiperspirant still worked and she was still on the track team. Her bare thighs looked a lot better back then, too.

What had happened? She had run miles in less than six minutes. Now she couldn't make two laps. The fatties in a general PE class laughed at her.

She wanted desperately to be able to run again. Hell, she'd settle for being able to suck in her tummy again and touch her toes, but even that wasn't happening. The closest she imagined herself getting to a size 2 was being behind one in a lunch line.

When the bell rang, Kagome was the first to the locker room. She was the first to leave. She didn't show up to second period.

She didn't hate the girls in the locker room for bolstering their own egos. She didn't hate the teacher for enforcing the rules. The only thing she could find to hate was her self for what she'd done.

When she reached the well house, it occurred to her how it might be interpreted if she returned mere hours after she left. Certain needs, however, outweigh others.

* * *

Inuyasha felt sick, down to the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and kept walking, getting away. He realized once he allowed himself to contemplate the emotion that he missed Kagome.

In his mind's eye, he saw Kikyo, and he saw Kagome. But now his vision was unobstructed. Kikyo was dead. The shell and the careless freak that had replaced her wasn't even a substitute. He wasn't afraid to admit that yes, he'd loved her once. But she was gone and he was no longer confused about what had replaced her in the world.

Kagome had cared. She hadn't stood there in placid indifference and let nature take its course. Her ebbing self-respect was better than wanting none at all. He wanted to tell Kagome that it didn't matter.

He was at the well. Kagome sat atop the rim. The old plywood bent beneath the force of her chubby body. She looked just as bad as Kikyo sitting there in bulging jeans, exhausted from what little physical exertion she had tried to do.

But that was exactly why he preferred her. _Wanted_ her.

She still attempted the physical exertion. She still wanted the cute clothes, even if she couldn't find them. She still took pride in her hair, in her makeup; in the way she carried herself.

That was what Inuyasha wanted. He wanted the girl who still had emotion, the girl who wasn't afraid to show it, no matter what people thought. Kikyo hadn't shown emotion. She didn't have it to show. She didn't want it. All he had seen in her face had been cold, calculating apathy.

She hadn't noticed him. Why she had come back here, from her time, and not do anything but cry was beyond his grasp.

Kagome's stomach jutted out onto her lap. Its untidy bulk had started doing that lately. Her tight clothes had sunken and risen from the pressure of her body. Soft, pale love handles bulged out from under her shirt. They were accompanied by the tip of the shapeless belly that oozed onto her lap. It was disgusting, he thought, until he saw her struggle to force the shirt back down and to tug up the seat of her too-small pants over her too-wide ass. What he found repulsive wasn't her size; it was the fact that she'd wrought it on herself. Suddenly, he wasn't disgusted any longer. It was a pity.

He wasn't sure when she had noticed him. He was but a few steps away, when she let out a final sniffle, wiped her nose on her arm, and forced her self to stop crying. She waited expectantly, eyes fixed on the ground.

He felt it coming before he said it. "You're a cow," he grumbled. Self-defense mechanisms were falling into place. He thought of his conversations with Miroku. "How anyone could just let themselves go like you have is beyond me!"

Kagome Higurashi used to be in great shape. She used to have firm, toned legs and a great ass. She used to be first string in track. She used to be able to walk – swinging her hips innocently – and Hojo and all his friends' eyes would follow her obediently. She used to slide effortlessly into her school uniform. She used to run, not because some angry PE teacher threatened her to, but because she enjoyed it. She had liked – no, enjoyed- her body.

It had taken her this long to start missing it. She didn't run first-string track anymore. She panted, fat and sweaty, along in a general PE class. She didn't slide into a revealing uniform. She blushed, even at thought, even if she could find one that fit her. No, she fought her way into a pair of her mom's old maternity pants. And she didn't walk, assured, confident, along and draw a string of heads turning to follow her. That is, she probably did, but they would be accompanied by repressed laughter.

She knew that if she were to run away from him now to go find Sango, she wouldn't leave behind the fleeting image of a sad little girl. He'd just remember the fat cow that stopped for a breather before her fat ass reached the tree line.

When she turned to look at him, however, his words didn't seem to match his face. She had expected the usual combination of detachment, pouting and loathing. Admittedly, that hadn't really fit him lately; his own double chin destroying the effect he tried to achieve. But instead of all that, she found him looking at her sincerely; looking at her like he understood.

"Inuyasha…?"

It became instantly apparent from the look in her eyes that he'd done something wrong. His defense, which he'd come to rely heavily on the past months, was crumbling under his sole need to tell her the truth. He imagined that he looked shocked. But if it had been displayed in his face, Kagome hadn't acknowledged registering it. She looked up at him, from her seat at the well, as if she hadn't heard the insults, as if he himself had said something different.

He looked away. His feet shuffled against the uncut grass.

"I don't know why you do it to yourself," he muttered grudgingly. He elaborated, "You pig out, gain weight, and then act all sad that you've gotten fat! You did it to yourself! What right do you have to mope around over something that's your own fault? You knew what was coming before you even started!"

It was Kagome's turn to look away. "I know."

"People have to be responsible for their own actions, Kagome."

"I know."

There was a beat of silence as he studied her face.

"I used to think that I was just being superficial," he said finally, "and that I was disgusted because of your weight." HE closed his eyes, shaking his head. "But I wasn't. That was just the end result. What I hated was that you willingly did it. I hated that you didn't care enough about yourself to do otherwise to stop it. That you'd eat, in front of everyone, ignoring- or ignorant- that it went against everything you wanted to achieve.

"I know you, Kagome. And I think I know why you're doing it. You ate to relieve stress. With all your responsibilities, your studies have been slowly going out the window. But more than that, when I told you I'd chosen Kikyo, you'd lost hope in a relationship. You ate because you'd given up.

"But what have you got left, if you're failing out of school? If you're all alone? All you have in this era is your physical ability to establish your independence. And what do you do? You throw away your last lifeline and come, in every way, to depend on us. To slow us down, even! I never imagined you as a dependant, Kagome. But that's what you've let yourself become.

"What I found disgusting was that you let yourself do it. Kagome, it's okay if you need to lean on me a little. I'm strong enough for both of us. But I don't want you to get to the point where you _need_ to depend on me, like Kikyo had wanted me to come to depend on her. I want you to be able to stand by yourself, even if you can't do it all the time.

"I didn't find it disgusting that you were fat," he announced, "But what you were doing to yourself in the process, I did."

She wasn't looking away from him any longer. She was staring into uncharacteristically caring eyes. He really did understand. She pushed herself up, and Inuyasha found himself in her soft embrace.

When she let go, he coughed, roughly, "Don't think this changes anything," trying to sound gruff. "And I'm hungry."

From her backpack, Kagome pulled a DEAN Bar and handed it to him.

As they walked towards the village, Inuyasha snapped the treat in half and extended the larger piece to her. She smiled, pushing it away.

"No thanks," she said lightly. "I'm on a diet."

He ignored, for once, her jiggling backside as she drifted a couple paces ahead. Instead, he let himself focus on his chocolate.


	7. Chapter 7

**Broken Mold**

_132_

There was a loud slap that could be heard from outside the hut. Inuyasha smiled at what he thought to be a familiar sound.

"Miroku!" Sango squealed, eyes wide with shock. It sounded like she would make the effort to get up, but she didn't. Instead, Sango sat salivating on the floor before the table of foods and treats, quickly forgetting about the resounding slap her rear had received moments before. Miroku sat down beside her, all too cognizant of the fact the girl's massive behind as still rippling.

Kagome stared, shook her head, and just watched the two eat. "Is that it?" She finally blurted out. The two looked up at her, confused.

"Is what it?" Sango asked.

"You're just going to let him do that to you," Kagome gasped. Miroku didn't look up from his plate to protest.

Instead, Sango said lightly, dismissively, "Oh, yeah, I'll get him back later," and stuffed another rice cake into her mouth.

Not too long ago, Kagome would never have imagined being the thinnest among the group. Now, seeing the table groan under the weight of food, both past and future, she couldn't imagine it any other way.

Miroku sat, as always, straight up; the epitome of etiquette. His massive Buddha belly added to the regal air he had always tried to put on. Even under his robes, his soft chest could be seen, with already a few drops of soy sauce atop it. None of them really cared.

Kagome took pride in the fact that finally her shapeless ass had started to firm up enough that she could bring herself to squeeze back into her school uniform. Granted she wasn't back to "normal" yet, the schoolgirl still felt unnaturally confident behind her new curves.

Sango wiped her mouth with a napkin just long enough to turn her head to Kagome and ask, "You sure you don't want any?"

Kagome shook her head. She had seen her friend's double chin flex under the pressure of turning her neck. She saw her friend's arms, once strong and toned from wielding the Hiraikotsu, struggle to lift in a motion to invite her over. They strained under their own weight. Kagome said: "I'm trying to get my fat butt back into track, remember? Not eat my way out of it."

She wondered quietly to herself just how much Sango was up to. It worried her that the exterminator had managed to pack on at least an extra hundred pounds to her frame in such a short amount of time, but what worried her more was the apparent disregard her friend had for the problem.

Lately, it had become a chore for Sango to remain full. Whenever she finished a meal, like Miroku, she'd find herself with another craving for something else in Kagome's backpack.

Sango had laughed. "Oh come on, Kagome! We have a hard enough time keeping up with a stick like you already!"

Kagome eyed the banquet longingly. None of them questioned _why_ they had started referring to Kagome as a stick. She was, after all, nowhere near what anyone in the future, or the village, would have considered thin. But after their last trip for jewel shards, when her jiggly legs didn't seem to burn from overuse as theirs did, they had quickly come to the conclusion.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt if I just had a little," the girl submitted, and sat herself down by the huntress. A plate of udon was instantly slid before her, and she dug in cautiously. It didn't take long, however, for her to abdicate her dietary concerns.

Sango smiled. "I knew you were hungry."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I can't afford to let myself go like you."

She looked at the younger girl like she was crazy. "I haven't let myself go," she laughed, though it was substantially more sober. She had even stopped eating.

Kagome, at this point, could easily call Sango obese. There was no longer an athletic bone in her body. The last time Sango ran, it was when Kagome announced she'd made fondue. The closest Sango ever came to a sit-up was when she couldn't reach a bowl of oden. And yet, despite her tree-trunk thighs that couldn't cross and her basketball breasts that drew taut her shirt, the spare tire around her waist was surprisingly small. At least, when considered in comparison.

"What would you call it?" Miroku piped in, interested.

"We're just…" Sango thought for a moment then announced as if to trivialize the subject, "taking a break. When we get back to _really_ fighting Naraku, I'm sure I'll tone back up."

Kagome raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, because that's all you'll have to do."

Miroku nodded and positioned a meaty arm around the larger girl's shoulder. "She looks perfectly fine to me."

After the meal, Kagome extended a hand and helped pull Sango to her feet. Something was wrong, she thought, when the strongest surviving demon hunter was unable to right herself from a sitting position without aid. Something was even more wrong when the huntress had been reduced to such a state in a matter of months.

When reached for her weapon, the wielder of the powerful Hiraikotsu struggled to lift her arms under the abrupt burden. She waddled out of the hut, her wide hips threatening to skid against the doorframe. Miroku, pushing himself up by his staff, followed.

And though the affects of empty calories had been bad on the humans, it was somehow disastrous on the hanyou. Kagome found him outside, spread out against the trunk of a tree. A distinct potbelly bulged forward and out of his haori, the red fabric clinging tightly to the ovular gut. Just as Kagome began to blush, embarrassed for him, he noticed the group and quickly forced the robe closed.

"About time you finished stuffing your face," he spat, looking up at Kagome. Though he would never admit it, Kagome was sure that his excess spite was somehow the product of her diet, and quite possibly his lack thereof.

Kagome dismissed the comment. "Don't you think it's time we head out again? There have been some pretty viable rumors about a shard in the valley south of here."

But before Inuyasha could respond, a familiar voice cut in. "It can wait," Kaede said. "I believe I have found someone who may be of help in your, ah, predicament," she continued. Inuyasha muttered something under his breath, and although the elderly woman pointedly ignored the demon, she had to suppress an indulgent grin after Kagome dutifully slapped the boy upside the head. "Several of the new villagers – the ones that fled here when your wolf demon laid waste to their homes – speak of a mystical healer in that area. They believe he can be of help, either to 'fix' your new weight problems," the old woman went on frankly, sending a cold stare Inuyasha's way, "or to at the very least abolish these cravings you seem to have. I think it would be in everyone's best interests that you put off your shard hunting long enough to investigate this, no matter how untrustworthy it sounds."

Miroku nodded sagely, his eyes falling upon Sango, hers upon a powdered donut. He said, with little hesitation, "I wouldn't want to needlessly risk the lives of our amply_… incapacitated_… companions for what could very easily turn out to be a trap, Naraku's or otherwise."

Inuyasha agreed. Sporting a wide grin, he mused, "You are looking pretty fat. I wouldn't trust you guarding my back." He looked around at the others for a moment, and swiftly added, "Hell, from the looks of things I'm going to be doing _all_ the fighting."

Miroku shook his head. "Yeah, that's right…" he sighed, too thoroughly beleaguered to risk breaking off into a tangent that would only waste more time, and possibly break several limbs as well. "Listen, do you realize how much _walking_ we'd have to do to get back there? I'm not one to devalue Buddha's green earth, but I don't have all the time in the world."

Now standing beside him, Sango had wiped what was left of a donut from her lips onto a greasy kimono sleeve and added, "How would we carry all the food? We should just keep waiting near the village, or go check up on those new shard rumors."

"But-" Kagome burst in, appalled, "but what if this person is the answer to everything? We're just going to skip over him because we're afraid? Or are you two just trying to avoid a little _exercise_," she gasped, watching Sango intently. "You're not going to let food stop you from avenging your family, are you?"

The huntress hesitated, and then sighed in surrender. "I guess I let myself get a little distracted," she admitted. "Besides, I've got to watch my figure-" Inuyasha snickered, "-A little exercise won't hurt."

"Then it's settled. We'll head out tomorrow," Kagome announced, heading back to Kaede's hut to pack her things.

Miroku blinked. "Hey… don't I get a say in this?"

* * *

There was something distinctly different about Kagome, Inuyasha had decided. He couldn't, however, put his finger on it. Perhaps, and he was just throwing things out there, she had more of a bounce to her step. Was she smiling more? Did she seem more optimistic? Inuyasha wiped the sweat from his brow and continued his slow trudge forward. No, she was always this bubbly. That couldn't be it.

His gaze dipped lower and, for what seemed like the first time in ages, he found himself again appreciative for being born a man. Kagome looked, for lack of a better word, full. Womanly. She wasn't the obtuse cow he had become used to, but she wasn't the emaciated representation of Kikyou he had thought he wanted either. She was simply she; not as what Kagome _was,_ but as what Kagome, he thought suddenly, _should be_.

Far be it for Inuyasha to reflect too deeply into a subject, but at that moment he realized that what he had always imagined the future to be like was not some bleak reality packed with metal beasts and towering skyscrapers, but what he now saw in Kagome: happiness, optimism, and _fulfillment_. Because if the now was when people fought for their needs, doesn't it stand to reason that the later is when people achieve them? If in this era, people had to fight and die just to live in little straw huts behind tiny tracts of farmland and just get by on what they needed, shouldn't the future be a place where people didn't fight for what they needed, but what they wanted?

If Kagome wanted chocolate, she had gotten it. Kagome had then wanted him to find her attractive, and had she gotten that as well? Were the sensuous curves of her hips, the fluid shudder of her thick thighs, the opulent bounce of her ample chest the equilibrium of the two, or the sum?

Then again, there are always other explanations.

To his left, Miroku walked, panting, teetering on the edge of consciousness. His blubbery chest heaved in and out as he gulped breath after breath of revitalizing oxygen.

Before him, Kagome casually strolled ahead, looking back every-so-often and sometimes offering a word of encouragement. Her bare thighs jiggled vivaciously with her pace. Her thin skirt fluttered against her inflated backside.

To his right, Sango clawed at the neck of her yukata. Her double chin convulsed against the restrictive wear and her pendulous breasts thundered with each forward step. Her green skirt clung to fat, sweaty thighs and chaffed against the wide rear of the demon hunter.

Kagome called back, "Come on! We're almost there!" as they passed a familiar looking crater. Leaves again adorned surrounding trees and, if Miroku's wheezing was to stop for just a moment, the ambient sounds of wildlife could again be heard within the diminutive forest.

The truth was, the only person not sweating profusely was the would-be miko.


	8. Chapter 8

**Broken Mold**

_132_

"Are we _almost there_?" Miroku rasped, stumbling along behind Sango. Several yards ahead of them, Kagome stood at the crest of what she claimed to be the "last hill, I swear!"

"Shut up and walk," Sango moaned, removing two wandering hands that had found their way to her hips (though more for leverage than anything else). "And get off me. Climb your own damn hill!"

Inuyasha was the second to reach the top. "Glad to see you can be right once in a while," he sneered.

As Sango and Miroku finally caught up, Inuyasha examined the village. It was, for the most part, a complete ghost town. For every shack still standing there were two more in ruin. Only the largest building, easily the size of the Higurashi shrine, showed any signs of life. Dark smoke rose from a fragmented hole in the roof. Decrepit and rotting, it did not appear to have held well against the elements.

"This looks suspicious."

"Whatever," Kagome said. "We'll just take a quick look around then leave."

"When has that ever stopped Naraku?"

"Yeah, okay. We're checking it out anyway."

Kagome grabbed the hanyou by the shirt –noting briefly how little extra fabric there was to grab– and started dragging him along down towards the buildings. Somewhere behind the string of obscenities rattling off, she heard the monk groan, "I thought we were going to rest!"

"Let go of me, wench!"

Kagome's grip tightened.

"I'm warning you!"

Kagome let go, and immediately spun around to look at the demon in the face. He took a step back. "We are _going_ into that hut, no matter what you say. Inuyasha, you're an ass. But it turns out your mood is directly related to the size of yours, and I'll be damned if I'm putting up with your new attitude a second longer than I have to. If Kaede says this guy can help us all shed a few pounds, we're going to see if he can help us shed a few pounds!"

Inuyasha was fuming. He shot haughtily past her towards the hut.

"That's more like it," she said quietly, studying him as he stormed off ahead. She had to admit that, seeing the love handles that bulged against his haori, he seemed so much more _accessible _this way. After all, how much competition could a three hundred pound hanyou attract? He should be begging her for a relationship!

Inuyasha had disappeared inside the hut, and Sango was already catching up to her when she came back to her senses. She didn't remember quite what she had zoned out on. "Er, wait for me!"

Inside, old wood flooring creaked beneath the heavy footfalls of the hanyou. In the room ahead of him, a fire was crackling. In the room behind him, more floorboards groaned as Kagome entered. She called his name.

"Damn it, woman, get in here," he called back. There was someone in the next room; he could feel it.

"I don't sense anything evil," Kagome said as she approached the final room.

"Doesn't mean there isn't."

Inuyasha reached for the drape covering the door of the last room. Kagome's hand reached out and stopped him. "We should wait for Sango and Miroku," she said.

A voice called out: "Oh for fuck's sake, just come in here!"

The pair blinked.

"Yeah, okay," Inuyasha replied, pulling back the curtain and entering. Kagome followed him.

A young woman sat before a roaring fire, idly tossing colored sand into it. It crackled and popped as it hit the blaze. She suppressed a snicker when she saw the two of them.

"When I foresaw this meeting, I knew only that you would bring to me a big problem," she announced, "I just didn't expect it to be so literal." She laughed. "Come, sit down."

Floorboards cried out as Inuyasha plopped down on a nearby mat. Kagome blushed at the massive plumber's crack that he exhibited. Not wanting to make the same kind of mistake, Kagome carefully took a seat beside Inuyasha.

He glanced at her and down at the thick roll of belly fat that hung over her skirt as she sat. "Suck it in," he hissed, poking a stubby finger into her doughy middle. "I can't believe you can't take a little pride in the way you present yourself!"

Kagome's jaw dropped. She was speechless.

"Hey," he said, not giving a second thought to his last comment, "shouldn't Miroku and Sango be with us by now?"

* * *

Miroku chuckled softly at the scene before him. He said coyly: "I suppose you want me to help you out."

Sango stood in the doorframe of the elder's building. She had awkwardly positioned her hands in an attempt to push her self forward, but to no avail. Her jiggly arms tired quickly and her bulk stayed put. Miroku's smile broadened. She replied: "If you wouldn't mind."

She could hear from behind her the cracking of knuckles, then the very sudden pressure on her backside, accentuated by the familiar indentation of prayer beads on one engorged cheek. She tried not to think about how much cottage cheese there must be on her ass, or about how it must feel to the man she'd recently been entertaining very real feelings for. Instead, she chose to do what any girl would do in that situation; she closed her eyes, blushing solid crimson, and let her mind drift away to thoughts about chocolate.

Sadly, she couldn't stay in that state for long. "I'm sorry, Sango," Miroku said finally, reluctantly removing his hands from the girl. "You're not budging."

Miroku's hand twitched yearningly. There had been remarkably little cottage cheese.

"Ohh, I knew I shouldn't have snuck that candy out of Kagome's backpack last night. It went straight to my hips!" she cried.

"Well, it's only wood. I don't suppose it would be that hard to crack the frame for a little extra room," Miroku said, bending forward to examine the finer points of the frame, as well as the sides of the entrance.

The huntress moaned, "That's just what I want to do! We come here to see if this guy can help us _lose _weight, and instead we have to break down his front door!"

"I'm not sure if we can. This is very strong wood."

The monk sighed loudly and in an epic display of distraught histrionics slammed his hands back down on the demon hunter's shelved ass. "I am very sorry Miss Sango," he admonished, "but I do not have the tools to free you. We're just going to have to leave you here until your hips shrink naturally." He pat a massive globe sadly and did not watch as it rippled uncontrollably in response. "I, on the other hand, will go around and find a backdoor or perhaps a window through which to locate this great mystic and perhaps shrink my own hips much more efficiently." He paused for a second, feeling as if he was forgetting something. "Oh yes, and I'll ask if he can come over here and help you out as well."

Sango's eyes widened and she struggled to turn around to look at him, failing. "You're just going to _leave_ me here like this! But what if someone finds me? I'll be defenseless! I'll-I'll be…"

"Embarrassed? It's a risk I'm willing to take. When I devoted my life to Buddha, I expected to follow in his footsteps, but certainly not in his culinary habits," the monk said. "I will see if I can lose this Buddha-belly, and you can wait here to see if you can as well. I will only be inside, and I'm sure I'll hear your screams should someone assail you.

"I do NOT have a Buddha-belly," she shrieked at the fading footsteps of the monk. "I do NOT! I'll get you back for this, houshi!" she screamed, still struggling to free herself from her confinement.

"Yes, you will," he called back. "But you will be significantly smaller when you're finally able to do so!"

"I'm going to kill you."

* * *

"Look at that, Kagome," Inuyasha said, gesturing to the mystic as she moved over to a pile of baskets, bending over to collect herbs that she mumbled were for rituals. Though she only wore a plain brown and white yukata, it clung tightly to her body, revealing as she bent over enviously tight ass and thin thighs. "Remember when you used to look like that?" he hissed, low enough to keep the other woman out of earshot. "Of course, that was months ago. You probably have other things on your mind, anyway. Like about how _your_ clothes _used_ to fit you."

"Well, that's what we've come to fix, now isn't it?" she snarled. "Besides, I've already caught you sneaking looks at me, so drop the façade."

"I look at a hippo in a zoo. It doesn't mean I like it."

"I know what you mean. I've had to look at a hippo all day, and it's been getting on my nerves!" She shot back.

"Can you two bicker some other time?" the woman asked. She had bound her long raven hair in a ponytail, and was now sitting in front of the fire again. "Your friend Sango needs help, anyway. You should go fetch her, Kagome."

Inuyasha's ears had perked up. "What do you mean by 'help'? If Sango is in danger, I'll escort Kagome."

"Oh, so now you're all chivalrous! What happened to 'Kagome, suck it in!'?"

"It's not that kind of help," the mystic assured. "Kagome won't need protection. It's just a little inconvenience had I failed to foresee. You can make yourself comfortable and wait."

The hanyou fell down on his side, propped up by an elbow, and let his gaze roll back to the fire, still crackling from the woman's herbs. "If you say so," he said dismissively.

"Yes, I say so. Now you go fetch your companions while I examine the demon," she said, the thinner woman pushing the thicker girl hurriedly out of the room.

"And don't worry about the door, it'll be fine!" she said, quickly shutting the divider behind Kagome. She turned to Inuyasha and smiled disarmingly. "My name's Inui, by the way," she said. "If you could just remove your shirt, I can examine you."

* * *

Kagome's face lit up bright red. "Sango…?"

"Yeah, hi," she muttered, trying to make eye contract with the girl. "I'm a little stuck. Miroku ditched me."

There was something to be said about the image that assaulted Kagome. Sango, put bluntly, looked every bit the bloated heroine. From the doorframe that sliced into her wide hips to the yukata that awkwardly hugged every obtuse curve of her body, she looked obese.

"He just left you here like this?" Kagome gaped. "Where'd he go!"

"He said he was going to find another way in… around me!" she burst out, tearing up. "I've wedged myself in here and even with Miroku pushing we couldn't get me out!"

The miko was still blushing. "There's only one place he could have been pushing to have any effect at all," she said.

"That's not a big deal!" Sango protested. "Just get over here and help me pull."

The younger girl moved closer, but after fumbling around Sango for a moment, she finally cried, "There's nowhere to get a grip!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"Unless you want me to grab a roll and pull, there's no way I'm going to be able to help get you unstuck. I should go back and get Inuyasha–"

"No! We're getting me through here before anyone else, – especially Inuyasha –

sees me!"

"Well, I don't see how we can do it," Kagome retorted. "Guess you're more untoned than you thought."

Sango moaned. "Okay, so I've gained a little weight," she ground out, glowering up at the ceiling. "What are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know," admitted Kagome.

Sango became desperate. Looking at Kagome, particularly

the small potbelly that pressed against her blouse, she couldn't help but think that Kagome was still out of shape. She hoped that she was wrong.

"I've got an idea. Give me your arms," Sango commanded, and when Kagome obliged, quickly interlocked them beneath her shoulders elbows to armpits. Kagome squirmed awkwardly as the girl's much larger bosom smashed against hers. "Okay. Now when I say go, hold onto me and use your legs to push against the wall. With both of us pushing, it's sure to work."

"If you say so," Kagome said. She desperately hoped Sango was right.

"Ready? Go!"

Sango instantly lost her balance. Had she not had thousands of pounds of wood holding her in place, she would have fallen over. Instead, she just found herself leaning forward at such an angle her face was entirely engulfed by Kagome's chest. Arms limp, all the older girl could bring herself to do was wonder stupidly to herself, when did Kagome get so full?

Still safely interlocked, Kagome could focus on more appropriate matters (aside from, she realized with some confusion, that Sango wasn't doing her part). Her doughy thighs and soft arms quivered from exhaustion, but were ceaselessly rejuvenated by the slippery sensation that, yes, Sango was getting through.

"Mmph-mph mm!"

"Almost there!"

At first, it was just a crack in the dam; inch by inch, Sango slid forward, until suddenly, accompanied by a high-pitched shriek from both parties, the Hoover broke and all of Sango came rushing through, right on top of Kagome. Whether or not Kagome had screamed from the fall or the pressure was still up in the air.

The miko winced and tried to roll the larger girl off her. She didn't budge. Sango mumbled something incoherent into her chest, and she responded: "You're crushing me!"

Sango's head shot up, and at once she saw the look of agony branded across her friend's face. A switch flickered, and time slowed down. A single thought resounded in Sango's head: _she was doing it_. She was crushing Kagome.

A flurry of sensations tore forward to greet her. The same moment she witnessed the pain in her best friend's eyes, she suddenly felt the throbbing soon-to-be bruises on her wobbly hips, and the piercing incision of her skirt's waistband on her burgeoned waistline, and her mammoth tits that spilled over eclipsing Kagome's own chubby waist. She felt her huge, sagging ass bound tight by her skirt, as well as the gelatinous second chin that rested on Kagome's perk breasts, even as Sango stared up at her face.

Then she felt her arms, buttery from months of binging and slack from months of inactivity, tremble from exertion when at the next moment she tried to lift herself from the schoolgirl.

She shoved herself over and onto her back, arms falling lifelessly, body spread as eagle as possible in the restrictive dress. She wasn't sure what she felt yet, but, head lolling back towards Kagome, seeing her writhe in pain, she knew it must be some mixture of horror and disgust.

Then at the snap of a finger, it all went away. Sango blinked back the tears that had welled up in her eyes and watched as Kagome sat up, eyes shaded by her bangs. I'm not that fat, Sango suddenly thought. She's all right; she was just overreacting!

Like that, Sango's butt deflated and firmed; her doughy gut receded back into a solid six-pack; her double chin erased itself from existence. Yes, she shakily assured herself, Kagome was just overreacting. She'd never be crushed by me. Look at her!

Kagome gently massaged her soar chest. It was odd seeing the girl's bosom project itself further than her belly, thought it wasn't too far behind. "We need to get back to Inuyasha," she said, standing up and offering a hand to Sango.

Oh look, the exterminator thought venomously, her thighs still touch…

"Yeah, okay. Let's go."


	9. Chapter 9

**Broken Mold**

_132_

The place reminded Kagome of a cheap hotel room after it had been covered in Lysol to hide the misguided actions of a previous occupant, and then covered in cheaper air freshener to cover up the Lysol. Unmarked creates brimming with generic herbs cluttered the floor. Where there was space, thickly painted runes could be seen. Inui said they warded deviant spirits.

The smell, however, did not bother Sango, who had been careful to sidestep her way through the door. She had instead been instinctively drawn to the astonishing amount of food placed almost centerfold in the room, then to the very shirtless hanyou sitting where the swirling markings seemed to congregate. Her stomach rumbled enviously.

"Ah, you're back," Inui said. She sprinkled a ground green substance around Inuyasha. Miroku, who the girls had found in the room upon their return, eyed the preparations curiously.

"Inuyasha here has graciously volunteered to partake in the Abdication ritual," she continued. Miroku did not recognize the soggy substance she splashed at Inuyasha, nor its spiritual value.

"The 'Abdication ritual'?" Kagome asked, still trying to suppress the blood flow to her cheeks through every fiber of her being. _Come on, Kagome. Now's not the time to swoon –er, stare– at Inuyasha._

The mystic explained, "In order for my magic to work, we must first present a clear depiction of the vice we wish to dispel."

Inuyasha scoffed. "I was hungry anyway," he said. His massive gut gurgled in agreement.

Kagome couldn't help but stare. Or, maybe, swoon. Certainly the fatter of the two men (and, arguably, women), the half-naked hanyou shouldn't be called even remotely attractive. The jelly beneath his chin matched the jell-o around his waist – it drooped and bulged and sagged over anything worn lower than it. The muscles she had once found unbelievably alluring had long since disappeared beneath an incalculable morass of ramen and chocolate.

Yet she found this fascinating. As Inui picked up the first morsel from the cache – a rice ball from a plate of onigiri-, and brought it to Inuyasha's mouth, Kagome couldn't help but think, _Eat up, fattie._

With every rice ball he inhaled, Kagome found herself getting more and more excited. When the onigiri ran out, and Inui gave the demon's gut a pat of praise, Kagome stopped sucking hers in and let it spill over her tight skirt. _So much more accessible_, she remembered thinking. _Lets see him get Kikyou now._

The mystic was practically pouring noodles down his throat. Inuyasha gurgled in half-hearted protest. _Fifty more pounds,_ Kagome thought, _and you wouldn't care if I added a few more, would you? A fatass like you wouldn't want to be alone all his life, so you wouldn't mind if I overindulged a little? I don't mind when you do it…_

Great priestess Kikyou may be the only woman worthy of Great demon Inuyasha, but Obese hanyou Inuyasha? Kagome could have that. Great demon Inuyasha may stand proud on some inaccessible pedestal, reachable only by some perfect idol, but Obese hanyou Inuyasha? Kagome could tear him down by his jellyrolls and have him for hers. She was _worthy_ of a fat Inuyasha. And should he gain a few more rolls, couldn't she gain a few as well?

She liked the idea.

She blinked. Half the food pile was gone. She'd zoned out.

Inuyasha's face was smeared with food residue, from broth to rice speckles to even a little chocolate. Inui held to his face a slice of pork, and demanded he eat.

"Listen, wench, I'm stuffed! Have Miroku eat it!"

"If you don't finish all this off, my ritual will fail! Do you want it to fail!"

"I don't want to explode!" he roared, slapping the piece out of her hand.

"I can't deal with this," she hissed, standing up. "If you people don't want my help, then leave. Otherwise, respect my wishes!"

"Wait- wait," said Kagome the diplomat. She moved and sat down in front of Inuyasha. "Could you keep eating, for me?" she asked, waving another splice of barbequed pork in front of him.

The demon's eyes drifted downwards to the overhang around Kagome's waist, and the thick thighs revealed by her skirt, and let out a belch. For a chance to finally get rid of it all, he'd do it. He snatched the food from her hand and shoved it into his mouth, saying with his mouth full, "Yeah, okay. For you."

A thin Kagome meant no more problems. A thin Kagome meant no more problems. A thin Kagome…

The smaller girl moved into Inuyasha and embraced him in a hug. He didn't know how to react, other than to avoid touching what looked like backfat. "Thanks so much, Inuyasha," she squealed, letting go and standing up. Inui moved back and picked up the next morsel.

"Uh," Inuyasha started gruffly, "do you think Kagome could feed me?" he asked, avoiding eye contact.

"Nani?" Kagome squeaked, taken aback. Inui, on the other hand, shrugged.

"I don't see why not."

"I… guess I could," she said. "But why would you want me to?"

"Does it matter?" he snarled, persona shifting radically, defensively. "If I'm going to go through all this, then I should be able to go through it how I want!"

"Okay, geeze!" Kagome exclaimed, plopping back down between Inuyasha and the many entrées. "Get ready to get stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey."

He grinned. "Glad to see you lead by exa-mmph!"

Kagome quickly grabbed another handful of cake and gave him a glare that dripped with acid. "Want more?" she asked holding it threateningly as he struggled to swallow. "I thought so," she said, jamming the next handful into his mouth. "What was that you were saying, Inuyasha?"

"Ymph fnt!" he cried, trying to back away from her. A large crate blocked him from behind.

Kagome slapped his massive gut, cake frosting splattering across it. "You look like you've still got room. Why not try to make this as painless as possible?" she growled.

Managing to swallow the last of the food, he cried, "I want Inui back!"

"You're not getting her back, fatass," Kagome said matter-of-factly. She wiped the rest of the cake scum onto Inuyasha's pants. "I'm not in the mood today for your insults."'

"Well, I'm not in the mood for getting force-fed cake by a cow!"

Miroku sweatdropped as he watched Kagome cram what resembled a very non-medieval cinnabon into Inuyasha's face. Why did he find himself wishing he were in that position? His stomach growled jealously. Oh, yeah…

"He had to open his mouth," Miroku sighed.

"He's not the smartest person on the planet," Sango agreed.

"At least he had the foresight to volunteer for this."

"I'm jealous…"

Miroku eyed the demon's colossal gut, which had distended significantly since the beginning of the ritual. Something worried him about the distention, but he couldn't quite place it….

_SNAP_

The waistband of Inuyasha's pants split at the sides. Kagome reeled back a little when she heard it, dropping the latest pastry. "Ohmygod, what was that?"

Inuyasha groaned in response, his stubby hands falling to his sides. "_That_ was fire rat armor," he moaned. "I'm never going to replace it!"

"Are you okay?" Kagome whispered, her hands falling down to his stomach in genuine concern. "Do you need to stop? Your stomach's so taut."

"I'm fine," he objected, though he didn't make any effort to remove Kagome's hands. Gently pressed, they felt cold against his skin. "I said I'd finish this for you, so I'm going to finish this for you."

"But Inuyasha…"

"Damn it, woman, feed me. Just go a little slower this time."

Kagome moved to grab the last servings, and was shocked to find what was left were bowls of… ramen?

"You didn't think I bought this food, did you?" Inui asked skeptically. "I conjured it. This is what the spirits decided you'd like."

Kagome held the first bowl under Inuyasha's grimy mouth, moving her chopsticks gingerly to his lips. He seemed to lean back further to make room for his stomach, so she had leaned forward over it.

She enjoyed the sensation. He was hers. He needed her. She was more than just a shard detector.

She didn't mind that her tummy bulged tight against her blouse, or that her skirt was still snug against her hips. She didn't mind, she thought, because she was the thinnest among them.

Miroku winced as Inuyasha struggled to finish off the last bowl. He didn't envy his position anymore. In fact, he felt fatter just watching, and subconsciously tried to suck in his own bulbous gut. To his right, Sango seemed to be doing the same thing, though neither of them managed to do it very effectively.

"Just a few more bites," Kagome whispered. "You're almost there…"

_Done._

Inui smiled in appreciation, standing behind Kagome and placing her hands on her shoulders. "I'm surprised you got him to eat it all," she said. "He looks utterly incapacitated."

Kagome nodded, her hands massaging his belly. He had laid back and seemed to have lost contact with the outside world. "I think he's really in pain."

"Most demons don't have a nausea reflex," the mystic explained. "They have an unparalleled resistance to things like disease and poison. It's probably what helped him hold it all in."

"That's terrible. What if his stomach bursts open from all the food?"

Inui shrugged. "I was hoping for something like that."

"You were-"

A sudden backhand cut Kagome off and she skid a few feet away.

The other two humans shot to their feet. Or, rather, tried to. Miroku stood before Sango, who was still trying to roll herself forward.

Inuyasha hadn't opened his eyes.

"It's like my job's already done for me," she laughed, strolling up to the man easily three times her width. He held his bo staff threateningly. "Oh, please," she had said.

The monk lurched forward, his own momentum slowing his assault. She saw it coming and evaded, smirking as Miroku fell down face-first.

As Kagome tried to push herself up, she felt her neck pop. _Ung…_

Sango, finally righted, drew her blade. It pointed forward at an unnatural slant as she tried to correct her form to make room for her engorged chest. Grasping the katana in front of her, her forearms sunk into malleable belly flesh. Shifting forward to swing, meaty thighs jiggled with her steps, wide hips swayed unevenly with her stance.

Her blade rose and she slashed downward, missing as the woman sidestepped, gliding out of reach on resentfully thin legs.

Miroku was pushing himself up; Inui delivered an axe-kick to the small of his back. He was down.

_She's strong_, Sango realized. She could appreciate that much. She moved forward and tried her luck again, hacking diagonally. She couldn't hit.

"Stupid girl," the woman said. "You're too slow. I had expected better."

Was it true? The sword already felt heavy in her gelatinous arms. Were her swings that sluggish? She needed an edge.

She regretted it, but she needed an edge.

Her hands dropped and deftly undid the sash around her waist. The front of her yukata fell open, revealing the familiar ebony shine of her exterminator garb. There was a lot more of it than usual, and it showed without even the shadow of a doubt that there was a lot more of Sango. Her robe fell by the wayside.

"That poor outfit."

Sango desperately wanted to avoid the others seeing her. There was nothing like a skintight leotard to reveal those unwanted curves – particularly the ones pointing towards Inui.

Sango's grip tightened on the hilt, and she swung again, and again. "Why – won't – you – gasp - stop – moving!"

"It's entertaining," she spat, ducking to avoid a high-flying blade. "Fatties like you need to know their place in the world: the kitchen!"

Her point was emphasized by a hard jab to the stomach. Shockwaves rippled through Sango, visibly, and she fell backwards onto a natural cushion.

"I think there's still some cake in the back. Would you fight harder with that to look forward to?"

Sango rolled unevenly away as the woman's heel came smashing down in the form of another axe-kick. The Inui laughed, striding casually over to where the girl lay.

Face red and chest heaving, she looked up at the woman whose midsection didn't include her midnight snacks of the last two months, whose tits didn't include that extra box of brownies every day for the last few weeks, and whose ass didn't make her factor in how many donuts she ate the previous night when trying to jam herself into that _offensively well-fitting skirt._

"Guess you just aren't a match for me, wide load," Inui mused.

Sango tried to sit up, but the woman's foot met her chest, and the result was unbearable. Her head cracked back down against the wood flooring, but she wasn't out.

It was at that point that Inuyasha made an appearance, in the form of a knuckle-punch to the back of the head. It hardly dented.

Attention off Sango for a moment, Inui turned to Inuyasha. She couldn't possibly be human! But why couldn't he smell a demon scent?

Before he could contemplate further, she had returned the favor, and his massive arms moved lethargically to block. She threw a second, then a third, and each time Inuyasha had only just enough to block, never to counter.

He'd gotten slower.

"Listen, tubby," she said sardonically, "If you give up now, I'll make it a lot less painful on your bitch over there."

She dropped down for a corkscrew, and Inuyasha took his chance: jumping over the sweep, he delivered a foot to the face. It went fine until he landed on one leg, which proceeded to snap the corresponding floorboard. _Oh, **shit…**_

Suddenly a foot shorter and temporarily immobile, he didn't get much time to think before the side of his head met with the brunt of a hard roundhouse kick. It was instantly followed by what must have been a concealed dagger, as a deep laceration appeared on his cheek.

"_Die!_"

The length of Sango's blade lodged itself into the back of Inui. It did not penetrate deeply.

"I'll let that one go," she said as Sango tried to free her katana. The thinner woman spun around before she was able to, and slapped her across the face for sport, then kicked her across the room for measure. She tore the sword from her back. "Just what I needed," she mused.

Inuyasha had managed to free himself and leapt out of her newly extended range. He drew Tetsusaiga, and the blade flashed an irradiant white as he sneered, "You made a huge mistake."

Of course, then it fully transformed and he found himself falling forward with its extreme weight.

"Umph! What!"

Inui spun the blade in her hand with the finesse of a master. It was as if she no longer carried the wound inflicted. "Mistake? You can't even lift your sword."

She strolled casually towards him, enjoying the spectacle of him trying to lift Tetsusaiga from the ground. He couldn't do it. His stomach groaned dangerously.

"Don't pull something," she warned. "You've just had a very large meal."

"Quiet, wench!" he snarled. He released the hilt, and the sword reverted. "I'll kill you without it!"

He flung himself forward, and she was careful not to let herself get caught under his bulk. Ducking out of the way, she made to sure give him a hard lash across the back as he stumbled past her.

Groaning, Kagome built up the courage to sit up again. She let her neck pop as she watched Inuyasha and Sango go at it fruitlessly. If Inuyasha's hand-to-hand skills had suffered greatly, Sango could hardly find her balance to deliver a kick.

Kagome worried for their safety, yet at the same time guiltily enjoyed the feeling of superiority it entailed. They'd need her help.

Sango labored to deliver what she hoped to be an effective palm-heel. When it collided, the only thing that budged was the doughy arc of her upper arm, which thundered viciously. She grunted as she jumped back out of the way of her own blade, her entire flabby body hiccupping against the exterminator gi.

From behind, Inuyasha's arms engrossed the woman and he tried to restrain her by seizing her against him. His own arms shuddered dangerously as she tried to pry his hold. "Bitch, will you… stay still so I can kill you?"

"Let go of me!"

His arms tired and released, much to his chagrin.

The second his grip broke she shot forward towards Sango. Unable to react, the katana's blade hit its mark, gashing into the soft flesh of her side. Sango screamed.

Kagome's eyes widened. That was a lot of a blood.

Sango clutched her side, falling back against the nearest wall. Inuyasha took over.

He intertwined his hands and slammed the woman – demon? – square in the back. She staggered.

"I'll save you for later, fat tits," she sneered, spinning around to face Inuyasha.

"Yeah? Okay. Let's do this."

There was a sudden flash of light and the hanyou shielded his eyes. Blinking away the spots, he saw a very dead Inui, head pegged to the wall by a pulsating arrow. It had gone in one ear and out the other.

"Wh-" he said dumbly. "What…"

There was silence.

"SHE WAS MINE!" he shrieked, whirling to face Kagome, who, several meters away, held her trademark bow. "Don't interfere with my fights!"

"What? You should be _thanking_ me! She would have slaughtered you!"

"Yeah, right!"

"Uh… guys?"

Kagome looked down at Miroku, who managed only to stare at her feet. "At the risk of sounding needy, my back _really_ hurts."

"Can you feel your legs?" Inuyasha asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then you're fine," he stated.

* * *

"I found the gauss!"

"It's really okay, Kagome. It's not as bad as it looks!" Sango said, hands still covering the laceration.

"No, you need to have it treated," she declared. "The bleeding hasn't even stopped."

"But…"

_Oh._ Kagome looked at the two men – Inuyasha, who was stoically trying to ignore the blood spurting from his back, and Miroku, who had been rolled over onto his back – "Do you two mind?"

"But my back! I'm not supposed to be moved!"

"_Out_!" she shouted, pointing to the door.

"Suck it up, houshi," Inuyasha grumbled, nudging Miroku's side.

He groaned audibly and sat up, then stood up with the help of a knee. "If I die a cripple, I'm blaming you two," he said, walking out of the room. Inuyasha followed.

Kagome reached to unhook the front of the exterminator gi, but Sango stopped her. "Wait," she said, blushing.

"You know I have to remove your top to treat your wound."

"Yeah, I know…" she whispered, looking away. She said: "I'm not sure if you've noticed or not, but when you take off my top, I think I may have gained some weight."

Kagome tried to keep a straight face. "You _think?_"

"I know! I didn't really notice either, I mean look at me," she said, hands releasing her wound to cup her massive chest. "But I think my figure might have started storing weight elsewhere."

_Like those mammoth thighs_, Kagome thought. "It's not important. I need to bandage you," she said, unclasping the front of the gi. She was a bit taken aback by Sango's lack of a bra as her breasts spilled out of the gap.

Her arms had been packed into the sleeves like sausage. Kagome tugged hard to get them off. She let the suit's top fall around Sango's waist, finally revealing the wound – and her roly-poly stomach. _Look at that spare tire…_

The gash on her side was still bleeding, however it had slowed significantly. Kagome moved to first apply the gauss pad. Her hands sunk into the huntress's soft stomach flesh.

"Sit up," she said. As she wrapped girl's waist with bandage, Kagome mentioned neutrally, "It seems like there's more to this garb than usual."

"Well, I had it let out…"

"Oh."

"…several times," Sango mumbled.

"And that didn't maybe tell you that you were gaining weight?" Kagome asked.

"No, not really. Maybe a little…" Sango trailed off. She moaned, "I've really gotten fat, haven't I?"

"A little."

As the roll of bandage tapered off at the end, Kagome knew it was the first time she'd wasted an entire roll on the exterminator's middle. She'd tended to the aftermath of enough fights to know that Sango had never needed more than half of one; now Kagome reached for a second.

"You think she was kidding when she said there was still some food around here? I heard her say something about cake-" Sango stopped herself. "Oh, Kami, what am I saying? I shouldn't be stuffing myself! With this fat body, I could hardly fight!"

Sango felt so soft. It made Kagome feel firm. Next to Sango and her floppy tits, she must look like a supermodel! The fatter girl's entire body seemed slack; if she tried to flex, Kagome suspected all she'd do is jiggle.

Kagome found self-confidence beside Sango now. Was that wrong?

"Don't be ridiculous! I thought you did a great job! We won, didn't we?" Kagome prattled. "You've got nothing to worry about!"

"I'm not so sure about that. My arms got awfully tired…"

"Now you're just making things up," Kagome assured her, slapping the girl's thigh. It shook terribly. "A little cake never hurt anyone! Heck," she said, severing the bandage at its end and tying it, 'we're done here. I'll even have some with you."

"But what about your diet?"

"Forget about it!"

_You just keep eating._


	10. Chapter 10

**Broken Mold**

_240_

A thinning mist hung in the frigid morning air of northern Tokyo. It suggested a pleasant day, accentuated by dewy car doors and blades of grass. It also gnawed at the face of any unfortunate sob that had to be somewhere so early.

Inuyasha was one such sob.

Kagome's bedroom window had been left open expectantly. He had used the stairs.

Things had changed.

"I didn't expect you so early," the girl lied, sifting through her dresser. It boasted dress sizes 4 through 24.

A pair of pink cotton panties did nothing to shield her against a strong gust of wind come unannounced; pale, bare, uneven thighs clenched together, though they needed no invitation to meet. Her buttocks jiggled involuntarily.

Kagome wore a vertically stripped ice-blue pajama top that at one point had fallen to cover her satisfactorily, if not a little provocatively in the presence of male company. It had hidden conservatively her diminutive breasts and dipped just below her perk butt, leaving enough toned hip and thigh to start a nosebleed in the face of any respectable hanyou.

Now, Kagome Higurashi couldn't even button it. Below a double chin rested two melons packed tight in an undersized bra, squeezing out cleavage that bordered on the obscene. A spherical belly sallied forth beneath it, hanging messily over her asphyxiating drawers, panties that love handles bulged over and a tubby butt drooped out of. Her unbuttoned shirt revealed all of it, now only able to reach down to her 38'' waist.

Inuyasha wondered why she let him watch. Her exceedingly plump rear shook as she adjusted her position at the bureau. It drew attention to the cellulite clotting her thighs.

He had stopped caring about her figure about the same time her thighs started chafing. At that moment, having her jump stark naked on top of him would have done nothing. Seeing her dress herself in too-tight clothes and sway those gargantuan hips about had a similar fruitlessness. To him, soap, hair and makeup had become an empty ritual; no amount of lip-gloss could make up for being too fat for her fat pants. The bloated bond they shared had become platonic.

But it wasn't all Kagome's fault.

Her floral print bed buckled in on itself, testimonial to the devastating weight of the demon atop it. Neither of them paid any attention to its incessant whining. Inuyasha's sausage-legs beat against it, bored, but tired quickly.

Inuyasha had no visible neck, but his chin took care of that. His chin and jaw formed an unbroken arch that met at his flaccid chest. He had long since abandoned any notions of closing his fire-rat haori, opting instead to let his thick chest bulge forward atop his belly, which itself cantilevered over his stubby legs. His bulk oozed outward with no respect to form onto her bed, stopping only because his skin could distend no further.

She had selected a pair of jeans. One leg already inside, Kagome began impatiently to hop one-legged into view of her full-length mirror, only to find that at her size she had no balance and was forced to bend over and effusively pack herself into the pants. It was as she zipped them up and attempted to latch them that she wandered in front of her mirror.

"Damn it," she hissed, watching her gut bulge over her waistband, its flaps, and the pudgy yet manicured hands that tugged at them. "They're getting tight already." She sucked in her belly and struggled to fasten her jeans.

After enjoying a long (because it had been a week) and anxious (because her friends had seen her) stay at home, Kagome was once again ready to head back to the feudal era. Her trip to the mall suddenly seemed insignificant, seeing herself already spilling out of her clothes again. Her mom's patronizing glances no longer seemed worth it.

With a small sense of victory, she managed to close them. Her wide hips strained the sides and her rear more than amply filled the seat of the jeans, threatening to peek out the back. She let her sloppy tummy hang over and examined herself in the mirror, her hands exploring her opulent behind.

After a moment, apparently finding her bulbous ass acceptable, she pulled off her nightshirt, revealing to Inuyasha backfat that no longer seemed out of place on Kagome. Her bra strap cut into blubbery shoulder blades. She carried weight well, despite everything about her that had once suggested the opposite.

Kagome turned to Inuyasha. Shirtless, her deflated beach ball of a midsection rolling over every inch of her waistband, her chest painfully bound above it, she asked, "Well, what do you think?" and eyed his man-breasts.

Inuyasha remembered the candy wrappers that Kagome had made him clean up. He had seen her force her way into her clothes. He had watched her as she let herself spill out over her jeans, heard the garments groan against hope that they didn't burst from the very presence of her inside them. He'd just seen her second chin rumble as she asked the question.

He complimented her. His own shapeless jowls shuddered. He had no right to call the kettle black.

Then Kagome smiled emptily and turned back to the mirror, taking a deep, appreciative breath. Her waistband creaked. An instant later, it stopped. And like that, before she even bothered to exhale, the button binding her jeans snapped and fired itself into the cheap glass that beget her reflection. It made both of them jump. Delicate lines rippled outward from the bead, as a pebble to a pond, and the image of Kagome's girth surging forward to fill the new gap was lost to the swelling of the tide.

And Inuyasha laughed, the stomach that folded in on itself rumbling heartily. Kagome shrugged, a belt already being laced through. It hardly latched, and when it did she couldn't help herself from overflowing it as well.

She grabbed a fuzzy red sweater and pulled it over her head, getting caught momentarily above her chest. Fully on, it ended right above her deep navel. She didn't seem to care.

"Meet me outside," Kagome said, nodding to the window as she slipped her shoes on. She moved towards the door.

Was she serious? Inuyasha looked at the open window nervously, then at Kagome's door. No, it must have just slipped her mind. "I think I'll follow you," he said, standing up as quickly as he was able. The bed screeched in relief when he did.

"Fine by me," she replied. "But we have to hurry. My mom will be home soon and the less I see of her the better."

As Kagome left the room, Inuyasha following, he indolently glanced at her globular ass. It rippled with each heavy step she took, easily observable in the skintight denims.

Souta stopped dead in his tracks at the base of the stairs, transfixed on his sister's bouncing chest, undulating stomach, and thundering thighs, as she rushed down. His gaze jumped to Inuyasha as he appeared, the hanyou carefully navigating his bulk along steps he could not see and struggled to balance on.

Kagome's bloated form jiggled past Souta's peripherals as he stared at his hero. Souta had to move out of the way to let Inuyasha lumber past.

As Kagome slid open the well house door, Inuyasha was already flushed and panting. She rolled her eyes as he tried to bend down and rest his hands on his knees, still gasping for breath, but failed horribly in the presence of his massive gut. He retreated to arching his back, hands at his sides. She ignored her own rasping.

"Come on," Kagome hissed, jabbing his gut hard enough to end his breather. He let out a wheezing cough. She grabbed his hand in both of hers and led him down the steps into the room's basin, then went to lean over the well. The seat of her pants creaked ominously. "You should go first, I don't want to get crushed."

"Yeah, okay," he said, moving to the edge. Kagome had to move out of the way; his girth took up almost the same width as the well itself. It would be another tight squeeze. "You sure the ladder on the other side is stronger?"

"Oh, definitely," she assured him, a comforting hand high on his back. He was sweating profusely, though because of his weight or a newfound fear of cramped spaces it was impossible to tell. Coming out of Kagome's well he had broken more than half the teeth on her ladder.

The hanyou took a deep breath, humongous gut billowing outward, and tipped himself slowly over the edge, the side of the well bending and splintering inward. Kagome leaned over the well looking after him, the bare vertex of her own belly brushing against the rim. She lingered a moment before following, knowing that he would take a while to regain his feet.

When she did jump, she'd try unsuccessfully to avoid bruising soft skin.

XOXO

OXOX

XOXO

"My god you've gotten fat."

A wry smile graced the girl's lips.

"You don't say things like that to a lady," she teased.

A wry smile graced his.

"You don't eat like a lady," he pointed out.

She nodded in the affirmative as five stubby fingers suddenly jammed half a powdered donut into her mouth, and a second set was inexplicably lost within the folds of her skirt.

"We should go somewhere more private. You could use more than your hands."

Miroku's mind had become intoxicated, though through no alcoholic means. His hand was as far down her skirt as he could jam it, fighting for space, and clutching as much of her backside as he could.

"You mean…" he murmured, nearly dropping the jelly donut that greased his prayer beads.

"Not yet! We still have half a box left!"

Finally, he was in! With Sango, no less! Who cared that it took a… few… extra pounds to get her to come around? She was finally his!

Sango leaned back a little as she impatiently snatched the jelly donut, while at the same time in one earthshaking movement of fluid girth he found his hand crushed beneath the very thing they had sought to discover. Tears welled up, and he stifled a scream.

Okay, maybe he cared a little.

Sango's face was flushed and while smiling dreamily, she put up pseudo-protest. "Get your hand out of there," she giggled. "What if someone comes in? Do you want to be caught with a fat cow like me?" Her arm encircled his neck and he found himself pulled on top of her.

"I don't care who sees," he announced, still struggling to unearth his throbbing hands from beneath the mass of sagging flesh. "You're perfect."

"Oh, Miroku!" she swooned. As she pulled him closer, his free hand nabbed a third donut and stuffed it into his mouth. Neither seemed to care when it didn't deter her from the mouth-to-mouth, and when Miroku finally gasped for air he found his own distressingly empty.

It was then that Inuyasha appeared, edging himself through the doorway. Everyone paused, particularly Sango, while Inuyasha tried to figure out what he was seeing.

"Just once I'd like to walk in on you when you're not eating," he said as it became clear he was oblivious. "Seriously, is that all you two do now?"

Miroku tried his best to look aloof as he rolled himself off of Sango, who tried her best to look aloof as she finished the donut. The monk responded bitingly, more than a little irritated at being interrupted, "You're fatter than either of us, so we must take a break sometime."

Kagome heard this as she came in, steering around Inuyasha who still managed to block part of the door. Even in a pair of jeans she couldn't buckle and a sweater so small both her belly and her plumber's crack were visible, Kagome looked like a supermodel around this crowd. "Miroku! You know Inuyasha doesn't like it when people talk about his weight!" Habitually, she found herself latching onto Inuyasha, as he placed an arm as far around her waist as he could.

"What are you, his keeper now?" he spat.

Kagome had begun to trace her finger along Inuyasha's gut. She said, without a hint of venom, "Well at least I don't have to worry about anyone walking in on me while Inuyasha tries to smother me with chocolate." The girl's eyes left the Hanyou's stomach for a minute to glance at Sango still lying on the floor, unable to sit up without assistance. "You know," she said, frowning empathetically, "maybe all of this 'feeding time' is why you're so out of shape."

Hearing Kagome had made Inuyasha break his glare off from Miroku. "Err, I think that future food of yours has had a bigger impact on us than anything they're doing in private," he said. Looking down, he hadn't realized how much Kagome's chest stretched that red sweater. There was a lot of cleavage.

"I'm just saying it can't possibly have helped. I mean, look at me. I've eaten that junk all my life and I'm way fitter than Sango."

She couldn't help but feel a burst of satisfaction as she said it.

"But you were on a diet for half the time," he quickly pointed out. "The way you eat now, you'll be bigger than all of us in no time."

Kagome laughed, and for the first time the demon found it callous; she had sounded dismissive, almost condescending in the immediacy of her reaction. She said, cuddling up a little closer to his side, "I've got a long way before that happens."

Miroku grinned. "See? Even Lady Kagome thinks you're huge."

Inuyasha's grip tightened around his girl, soft flesh bulging above and below his own gelatinous arm.

"Oh, I didn't mean it that way!" Kagome hurriedly explained, surprisingly nonchalant. "It's just, well, sometimes I let things slip that I don't really mean. You're perfect, Inuyasha."

"Are you kidding? He's a house!" Sango exclaimed, halting her crusade through the last box of donuts and lolling her head to one side to look at the couple. Her chin sunk into her neck as she spoke. "And you're not much better, Kagome. You're not just a little porky anymore, you know. You're downright fat. A girl needs to have her priorities, her figure one of them."

Kagome's eyes widened as she stared at the girl prone on the floor, a pink box of donuts resting squarely on her gigantic midsection. She hardly had the energy to lift her head off the floor and she was calling _her _fat!

"Take that back, you cow!" Kagome howled.

Miroku coughed. "Whoa, a little touchy aren't we? Sango was just-"

"Sango's a greasy pig who needs to shut her fat face when she's around girls who are _prettier_ than her!"

Kagome had detached herself from the hanyou, looking uncharacteristically aggressive with fists clenched, eyes narrowed and legs parted. However, any attempt at looking dangerously hostile was nullified, at least to Miroku, by the taut 'V' of her jeans and consequent panty line not quite covered by her belt. Rather, it looked more like the tantrum of an angry child too incompetent to dress herself.

Miroku's hands were in front of him as he tried to settle the situation. "You're getting defensive, Kagome," he warned, dropping the usual compellation.

It occurred to Kagome that the term 'figure' couldn't be applied even in the loosest of connotations to the blob of human adipose lying on the floor before her. The girl's legs were about as firm as Miroku's monogamy vows, and in that green kimono it was hard to tell where one mass of flesh began and the other ended. The taijiya's last remaining saving feature, her truly enormous bust, had become so disturbingly engorged that each breast actually oozed to either side of her, puddling on the floor against her inner arms. And as if it couldn't get any worse, her entire bed sheet of a yukata was caked in warm sweat.

"I'm not defensive! Have you looked at yourselves lately? I'm the only one _with_ a figure here!"

Inuyasha snorted. "You have a little 'figure' bulging over your pants."

"SIT!"

"I'm sick of it," Kagome cried, stalking past ruptured floorboards and a larger-than-average Inuyasha-sized crater. Behind her, Miroku was helping Sango to her feet. Before her was fresh air and a break from these idiots.

Outside, however, Kagome had forgotten about the villagers and quickly became cognizant of her wardrobe choice, something she hadn't even given thought to until a moment ago. She didn't delve into the issue, though, because if the heavy creaking of wood was any indication then Inuyasha wasn't far behind her.

"Just what-" Inuyasha started, bursting from the hut, "was that for?" He had literally burst from the hut, having to force himself through the relatively narrow opening.

"Were you listening to yourself?" she screeched.

"I wasn't aware you being _fat_ wasn't _public fucking knowledge!"_

"You don't talk about a girl's weight!"

"I was just following your example!"

Kagome's arms were rippling with impotent rage. "I am _not_ the fat one here!" she screamed, jabbing a finger in the general direction of his gut. "I can't even begin to guess how much you weigh, and I'm never going to find out because you'd break my fucking scale!"

Kagome didn't curse often, if ever, and it actually knocked Inuyasha into some perspective. He visibly relaxed. "You're right," he said. "I've gotten huge."

"That's right you have!" she spat. "Where do you get off calling me fat?"

"You're huge too," he added. "And I think it's time we all did something about it."

Her eyes were open, and she was staring straight at him. "What? No. Have you seen Miroku and Sango? This is the first time they've been happy together, ever! There's no telling what could happen if we…"

It occurred to Inuyasha that for once, he was the one thinking clearly.

"So? Things would still be better than they are now," he insisted. "I mean, honestly, Kagome. Are you happy like this?"

"I'm fine!"

"Well, I'm not. I don't want you bringing any more of that food from your time back here. I think that's the root of all of this, and I think you know it."

"But…" Kagome tried to think of something, but came up blank. She imagined briefly a thin Inuyasha, and Kikyou was there by his side again. She couldn't have it. "Sango won't stand for it. She'll-"

"She'll understand. Half the crap she eats is stuff you shove in her face. In fact, I think you're projecting, Kagome."

"I'm doing no such thing! None of us are going on a diet!"

"Why don't you want us to?" he asked, intent on her expression.

"I… I…"

"That's what I thought."

Kagome's fists clenched and she rushed past Inuyasha, every part of her obese body jiggling. She blushed faintly as he tried to hide his disgust.

"I'm going back to my time for a while," she said. "Don't come get me."

XOXO

OXOX

XOXO

Kagome lay at the base of the well, massaging her sore rear. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she couldn't be around Inuyasha right then. Her room seemed safe.

When she'd landed, her stomach had convulsed and the belt had snapped open, its tooth somewhere in the dirt around her. Her belly poured out between the flaps of her pants. When she stood up, they audibly creaked as they fought a losing battle to contain her thighs.

Her red sweater had ridden up her belly almost reaching its crest, and she angrily pulled it back down. When she began to climb the broken ladder out, the obtuse curve of her stomach shuddering from the use of torpid muscles, the shirt did.

She hoped she could steer clear of her family until she could make it to her room. Even she could admit she wasn't presentable in her current state. That is, not to anyone _here_.

This thought was wholly forgotten when she wandered past the kitchen towards the steps. She had to get a double take of the woman idly scrubbing dishes, a bag of M&M's atop the counter. The woman grabbed a soapy handful and funneled them into her mouth.

"Mama?"

The chubby woman's summer dress clung to her dimpled cheeks and Kagome's jaw fell agape as the older woman's buns and thighs wobbled to face her.

Ebony eyes lit up at the sight of her daughter, never falling below her collar to dispense that scornful, judgmental glance. She actually held Kagome's eyes in hers and for the first time in a long time seemed genuinely, uncompromisingly glad to see her.

"You're okay!" she cried, rapidly closing the distance between them. Kagome turned bright red, seeing for the first time her mother's bosom bounce. Since when did they even _do_ that, she wondered as her mom embraced her.

"I don't care how fat you get," Ms. Higurashi said, her daughter pressed tightly against her chest. "You can get as big as a house if you want. I don't care, as long as you never let yourself get hurt!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Souta told me about Inuyasha. He could hardly walk he was so out of shape!" she fussed. "I'm terrified, Kagome. Your guardian isn't fit to protect you from all those demons you always talk about."

The schoolgirl writhed her way out of her mother's arms, frowning. "Is that what you're worried about? Mama, we can hold our own!"

"But you're so fat!" she bawled.

Kagome didn't want to tell her mother they hadn't even left the village in months. She didn't want to validate her mother's suspicions that they were in fact in no shape to defeat even a single no-class youkai, or that all she and the rest of them did was eat and sleep. Or in Sango and Miroku's case…

"We're fine!" she shouted. "Just leave me alone. I'm not staying, anyway."

"But you'll think about what I said," the older woman begged, hands clasped. "Even if you won't get a little exercise, at least convince your friend. He really needs it-"

"He's fine!"

"According to who?" Ms. Higurashi asked, her voice growing sterner. "You? You're not a very good judge of 'fine' right now. I mean, look at your self. You're fatter than yesterday," her mom gaped. "What have you been eating?"

It doesn't take much muscle to hold in a few extra holiday pounds. It requires significantly more to hold in an entire thanksgiving feast. It was muscle the girl obviously didn't have, and thus, embarrassingly, the extra layer of girth she'd acquired from the morning's feast came spilling out- right in front of Ms. Higurashi's eyes. Feeling vindicated, and more than a little bit smug, she continued:

"You're going to get hurt, either by one of those monsters or by yourself! It's not healthy!"

Kagome's brow had furrowed and she stepped decisively past her mother, eyes shooting daggers. If she was going to be ridiculed, she was going to be ridiculed on an empty stomach. "We're still stocked up, right?" she sneered, flipping on the light as she entered the kitchen pantry.

The shelves were notably barer. An opened box sported chocolate and she reached in and tore off the wrapper without noting the brand.

As she came out, her mom hissed, "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"Nope!"

"I can't believe I raised a daughter with such little self control."

"Like you're so much better," she sneered, eying the woman's broad hips. "You've gotten fat, too."

"Hardly!" she protests. "I couldn't help it; I was so worried about you that I had to do something to calm myself down!" she said. "It turns out it was all in vain anyway. Look at you: not a scratch."

It turns out Ms. Higurashi had a comfort food, too.

"That's not _just_ coincidence!" Kagome snapped.

She bit into the candy bar. Her fingers were already coated with warm chocolate; her mom's eyes narrowed disapprovingly.

"Don't eat while I'm talking to you!" she snapped, slapping the bar out of Kagome's hand. It splintered when it hit the tile.

"I'll do whatever I want, fat ass," Kagome barked, actually bending over to pick up the pieces. Her jeans groaned in protest, perceptible to both of them.

Then they tore, straight down the seat. Her confined rear visibly widened upon release, pink cotton panties seen stretched thin across her expanse.

Her mom burst out laughing.

There is nothing inherently funny about a girl splitting her pants. When a fit chick does it bending over to pick up a candy bar, however, it's hilarious.

For Ms. Higurashi, it went further. It was the culmination of everything she could have possibly said at that moment. She didn't even have to open her mouth; her daughter did it for her.

It suddenly didn't matter that the woman couldn't squeeze herself into anything save her baggiest dresses. Her problems didn't even compare to the wreck that bent over frozen in shock before her. The girl's sweater couldn't begin to cover the gut that rolled over her jeans. Ms. Higurashi's ass was dimpled? Kagome's was a wad of cookie dough; the girl couldn't keep that much shape if she tried.

Kagome was brought back to reality when the older woman's palm came face down on her ass; a muffled slap was heard. Kagome jumped to attention. "Is this what you want to be like the rest of your life? What happened to running track? Meeting boys? _Fitting into a prom dress?"_ she asked.

"I'm a stick compared to the others," Kagome tried, though knew before she said it how lame it sounded.

"And you're a whale compared to me," Ms. Higurashi responded.

"So what?"

"So, you're going to get _hurt!_ It's just a matter of time before something comes along you kids can't handle," she urged.

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't want you going back there."

"What?"

"I said I don't want you going back there… for at least a month. At least give me a chance to try to whip you into shape, and if that doesn't work I'll let you do whatever you want."

Kagome thought about Inuyasha, and everything that had happened. Her eyes drifted back to the pantry where it had all started. She felt her mouth watering, and instinctively knew her mother was impotent to stop her.

"I'm going to have a hard time losing weight if I have eight hours of school everyday," Kagome suggested.

"I'll get you out if it," she replied, on cue.

Kagome paused for dramatic effect, pretending to contemplate her options. Then finally said, "Okay, I'll do it."

Her mother smiled. "Then lets get to work," she said, grabbing a packet of M&M's from the counter. "Go see if your old sweats fit. I'll be up there in a minute," the woman instructed.

When Kagome left, Ms. Higurashi quickly funneled the packet down her throat.


End file.
